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THE CUCKOO CLOCK.
Now, these little folks, like most girls and boy
Loved fairy tales even better than toys.
And they knew that in flowers on the spray
Tiny spirits are hidden away,
That frisk at night on the forest green,
When earth is bathed in dewy sheen —
And shining halls of pearl and gem,
The Regions of Fancy — were open to them.**
•*. . . just as any little child has been guided towards the true
paradise by its fairy dreams of bliss."— E. A. Abbott.
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2007 with funding from
Microsoft Corporation
http://www.archive.org/details/cuckooclockOOmole
IT WAS A LITTLE BOAT.
\Fage 221.
THE CUCKOO CLOCK,
By MRS. MOLESWORTH,
AUTHOR OF
R BABT," "CARROTS," "GRANDMOTHER DEAR," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE.
ELEVENTH THO USA XD.
EontJon :
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1882.
M PROPERTY OF THE CrZ&>^ 6^
CITY OF NEW YORK ^jn
MAEY JOSEPHINE,
AND TO THE DEAR MEMORY OF HER BROTHER.
TH03IAS GKINDAL,
DOTH FRIENDLY LITTLE CRITIC-
MY CHILDREN'S STORILo,
Edinburgh^
1877.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGB
I. The Old House ... ... ... ... 1
II. Zl/PATIENT GRISELDA ... ... ... 21
III. Obeying Orders ... ... ... ... 39
IY. The Country of the Nodding Mandarins ... 62
V. Pictures ... ... ... ... ... 88
fl. Eubbed the Wrong Way ... ... ... 114
VII. Butterfly-Land ... ... ... ... 135
VIII. Master Phil ... ... ... ... 159
IX. Up and down the Chimney ... ... ... ISO
X. The Other Side of the Moon ... ... 20G
XI. "Cuckoo, Cuckoo, Good-bye!" ... ... 225
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
"Why won't you speak to me?" ...
Mandarins nodding
"My Aunts must have come back!"
She looked like a Fairy Queen
"Where are that Cuckoo?"
" Tired ! how could I be tired, Cuckoo ? :
It was a Little Boat
PAGK
To
face
41
73
55
55
109
147
51
168
55
»
204
221
THE CUCKOO CLOCK.
CHAPTEK I.
THE OLD HOUSE.
" Somewhat back from the village street
Stands the old-fashioned country seat."
Once upon a time in an old town, in an old street,
there stood a very old house. Such a house as
you could hardly find nowadays, however you
searched, for it belonged to a gone-by time — a time
now quite passed away.
It stood in a street, but yet it was not like a
town house, for though the front opened right on
fco the pavement, the back windows looked out
upon a beautiful, quaintly terraced garden, with
5 b
2 • THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
old trees growing so thick and close together that
in summer it was like living on the edge of a
forest to be near them; and even in winter the
web of their interlaced branches hid all clear view
behind.
There was a colony of rooks in this old garden.
Year after year they held their parliaments and
cawed and chattered and fussed; year after year
they built their nests and hatched their eggs;
year after year, I suppose, the old ones gradually
died off and the young ones took their place,
though, but for knowing this must be so, no one
would have suspected it, for to all appearance the
rooks were always the same — ever and always the
same.
Time indeed seemed to stand still in and all
about the old house, as if it and the people who
inhabited it had got so old that they could not
get any older, and had outlived the possibility of
change.
t] THE OLD HOUSE.
But one clay at last there did come a change.
Late in the dusk of an autumn afternoon a carriage
drove up to the door of the old house, came rattling
over the stones with a sudden noisy clatter that
sounded quite impertinent, startling the rooks just
as they were composing themselves to rest, and
setting them all wondering what could be the
matter.
A little girl was the matter ! A little girl in a
grey merino frock and grey beaver bonnet, grey
tippet and grey gloves — all grey together, even to
her eyes, all except her round rosy face and bright
brown hair. Her name even was rather grey, for
it was Griselda.
A gentleman lifted her out of the carriage and
disappeared with her into the house, and later
that same evening the gentleman came out of the
house and got into the carriage which had come
back for him again, and drove away. That was
all that the rooks saw of the change that had come
THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [cjiap.
to the old house. Shall we go inside to see
more ?
Up the shallow, wide, old-fashioned staircase,
past the wainscoted walls, dark and shining like a
mirror, down a ' long narrow passage with many
doors, which but for their gleaming brass handles
one would not have known were there, the oldest of
the three old servants led little Griselda, so tired
and sleepy that her supper had been left almost
untasted, to the room prepared for her. It was a
queer room, for everything in the house was queer ;
but in the dancing light of the fire burning brightly
in the tiled grate, it looked cheerful enough.
" I am glad there's a fire," said the child. " Will
it keep alight till the morning, do you think ? "
The old servant shook her head.
" 'Twould not be safe to leave it so that it would
burn till morning," she said. "When you are in
bed and asleep, little missie, you won't want the
fire. Bed's the warmest place."
:.] THE OLD HOUSE. 5
" It isn't for that I want it," said Griselda ; " it's
for the light I like it. This house all looks so
dark to me, and yet there seem to be lights hidden
in the walls too, they shine so."
The old servant smiled.
" It will all seem strange to you, no doubt," she
said; "but you'll get to like it, missie. 'Tis a
good old house, and those that know best love it
well."
"Whom do you mean?" said Griselda. "Do
you mean my great-aunts ? "
"Ah, yes, and others beside," replied the old
woman. " The rooks love it well, and others
beside. Did you ever hear tell of the ' good
people,' missie, over the sea where you come
from ? "
" Fairies, do you mean ? " cried Griselda, her
eyes sparkling. "Of course I've heard of them,
but I never saw any. Did you ever ? "
" I couldn't say," answered the old woman.
THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"My mind is not young like yours, missie, and
there are times when strange memories come back
to me as of sights and sound? in a dream. I am
too old to see and hear as I once could. We are
all old here, missie. 'Twas time something young
came to the old house again."
'•'How strange and queer everything seems!"
thought Griselda, as she got into bed. " I don't
feel as if I belonged to it a bit. And they are all
so old; perhaps they won't like having a child
among them? "
The very same thought that had occurred to the
rooks ! They could not decide as to the fors and
againsts at all, so they settled to put it to the vote
the next moming, and in the meantime they and
Griselda all went to sleep.
I never heard if they slept veil that night; after
such unusual excitement it was hardly to be
expected they would. But Griselda, being a little
girl and not a rook, was so tired that two minutes
THE OLD HOUSE.
after she had tucked herself up in bed she was
quite sound asleep, and did not wake for several
hours.
" I wonder what it will all look like in the morn-
ing/' was her last waking thought. " If it was
summer now, or spring, I shouldn't mind — there
would always be something nice to do then.'
As sometimes happens, when she woke again,
very early in the morning, long before it was light,
her thoughts went straight on with the same
subject.
"If it was summer now, or spring," she re-
peated to herself, just as if she had not been asleep
at all — like the man who fell into a trance for a
hundred years just as he was saying " it is bitt — "
and when he woke up again finished the sentence
as if nothing had happened — " erly cold.'' " If
only it was spring," thought Griselda.
Just as she had got so far in her thoughts, she
save a £reat start. ^\~hat was it she heard ?
8 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Could her wish have come true ? Was this fairy-
land indeed that she had got to, where one only
needs to wish, for it to be? She rubbed her eyes,
but it was too dark to see ; that was not very fairy-
land-like, but her ears she felt certain had not
deceived her : she was quite, quite sure that she
had heard the cuckoo !
She listened with all her might, but she did not
hear it again. Could it, after all, have been
fancy ? She grew sleepy at last, and was just
dropping off when — yes, there it was again, as
clear and distinct as possible — "Cuckoo, cuckoo,
cuckoo ! " three, four, fioe times, then perfect
silence as before.
" What a funny cuckoo," said Griselda to her-
self. "I could almost fancy it was in the house.
I wonder if my great-aunts have a tame cuckoo in
a cage ? I don't think I ever heard of such a
thing, but this is such a queer house ; everything
seems different in it — perhaps they have a tame
I.] THE OLD HOUSE.
cuckoo. I'll ask them in the morning. It's very
nice to hear, whatever it is."
And, with a pleasant feeling of companionship,
a sense that she was not the only living creature
awake in this dark world, Griselda lay listening,
contentedly enough, for the sweet, fresh notes of
the cuckoo's friendly greeting. But before it
sounded again through the silent house she was
once more fast asleep. And this time she slept
till daylight had found its way into all but the
very darkest nooks and crannies of the ancient
dwelling.
She dressed herself carefully, for she had been
warned that her aunts loved neatness and pre-
cision ; she fastened each button of her grey
frocks and tied down her hair as smooth as such a
brown tangle could be tied down ; and, absorbed
with these weighty cares, she forgot all about the
cuckoo for the time. It was not till she was
sitting at breakfast with her aunts that she re-
10 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
membered it, or rather was reminded of it. by
some little remark that was made about the
friendly robins on the terrace walk outside.
" Oh. aunt/' she exclaimed, stopping short half-
way the journey to her mouth of a spoonful of
bread and milk, " have you got a cuckoo in a
cage '? "
••'A cuckoo in a cage," repeated her eldei
aunt, Miss Grizzel; "what is the child talking
about ? "
'; In a cage! " echoed Miss Tabitha, i: a cuckoo
in a cage ! "
" There is a cuckoo somewhere in the house.''
said Griselda; "I heard it in the night. It
couldn't have been out-of-doors, could it ? It would
be too cold."
The aunts looked at each other with a little
smile. " So like her grandmother," they whis-
pered. Then said Miss Grizzel —
" YTe have a cuckoo, my dear, though it isn't in
i.] TEE OLD HOUSE. U
a cage, and it isn't exactly the sort of cuckoo you
are thinking of. It lives in a clock."
"In a clock," repeated Miss Tabitha, as if to
confirm her sister's statement.
'•'In a clock ! " exclaimed Griselda, opening her
grey eyes very wide.
It sounded something like the three bears, all
speaking one after the other, only Griselda" s voice
was not like Tiny's; it was the loudest of the three.
'•'In a clock ! " she exclaimed; "but it can't be
alive, then ? "
" Why not ? " said Miss Grizzel.
'•' I don't know," replied Griselda, looking
puzzled.
'•'I knew a little girl once," pursued Miss Grizzel,
"who was quite of opinion the cuckoo was alive,
and nothing would have persuaded her it was not.
Finish your breakfast, my dear, and then if you
like you shall come with me and see the cuckoo
for yourself."
12 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" Thank you, Aunt Grizzel," said Griselda, going
on with her bread and milk.
"Yes," said Miss Tabitha, "you shall see the
cuckoo for yourself."
" Thank you, Aunt Tabitha," said Griselda.
It was rather a bother to have always to say
"thank you," or "no, thank you," twice, but
Griselda thought it was polite to do so, as Aunt
Tabitha always repeated everything that Aunt
Grizzel said. It wouldn't have mattered so much
if Aunt Tabitha had said it at once after Miss
Grizzel, but as she generally made a little pause
between, it was sometimes rather awkward. But
of course it was better to say "thank you" or " no,
thank you " twice over than to hurt Aunt Tabitha's
feelings.
After breakfast Aunt Grizzel was as good as her
word. She took Griselda through several of the
rooms in the house, pointing out all the curiosities,
and telling all the histories of the rooms and their
i.J THE OLD HOUSE. 13
contents; and Griselda liked to listen, only in
every room they came to, she wondered when they
would get to the room where lived the cuckoo.
Aunt Tabitha did not come with them, for she
was rather rheumatic. On the whole, Griselda was
not sorry. It would have taken such a very long
time, you see, to have had all the histories twice
over, and possibly, if Griselda had got tired, she
might have forgotten about the " thank you's" or
" no, thank you's " twice over.
The old house looked quite as queer and quaint
by daylight as it had seemed the evening before ;
almost more so indeed, for the view from the
windows added to the sweet, odd " old-fashioned-
ness " of everything
"We have beautiful roses in summer," observed
Miss Grizzel, catching sight of the direction in
which the child's eyes were wandering.
"I wish it was summer. I do love summer,"
said Griselda. " But there is a very rosy scent
14 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
in the rooms even now, Aunt Grizzel, though it is
winter, or nearly winter."
Miss Grizzel looked pleased.
" My pot-pourri," she explained.
They were just then standing in what she called
the "great saloon," a handsome old room, fur-
nished with gold-and-white chairs, that must once
have been brilliant, and faded yellow damask
hangings. A feeling of awe had crept over
Griselda as they entered this ancient drawing-
room. What grand parties there must have been
in it long ago ! But as for dancing in it note
— dancing, or laughing, or chattering — such a
thing was quite impossible to imagine !
Miss Grizzel crossed the room to where stood
in one corner a marvellous Chinese cabinet, all
black and gold and carving. It was made in the
shape of a temple, or a palace — Griselda was not
sure which. Any way, it was very delicious and
wonderful. At the door stood, one on each side,
i.] THE OLD HOUSE. 15
two solemn mandarins; or, to speak more cor-
rectly, perhaps I should say, a mandarin and his
wife, for the right-hand figure was evidently
intended to be a lady.
Miss Grizzel gently touched their heads. Forth-
with, to Griselda's astonishment, they began
solemnly to nod.
"Oh, how do you make them do that, Aunt
Grizzel ? " she exclaimed.
"Never you mind, my dear; it wouldn't do for
you to try to make them nod. They wouldn't like
it," replied Miss Grizzel mysteriously. " Eespect
to your elders, my dear, always remember that.
The mandarins are many years older than you —
older than I myself, in fact."
Griselda wondered, if this were so, how it was
that Miss Grizzel took such liberties with them
herself, but she said nothing.
"Here is my last summer's pot-pourri," con-
tinued Miss Grizzel, touching a great china jar on
16 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
a little stand, close beside the cabinet. "You
may smell it, my dear."
Nothing loth, Griselda buried her round little
nose in the fragrant leaves.
" It's lovely," she said. " May I smell it when-
ever I like, Aunt Grizzel ? "
"We shall see," replied her aunt. "It isn't
every little girl, you know, that we could trust to
come into the great saloon alone."
" No," said Griselda meekly.
Miss Grizzel led the way to a door opposite to
that by which they had entered. She opened it
and passed through, Griselda following, into a
small ante -room.
"It is on the stroke of ten," said Miss Grizzel,
consulting her watch; "now, my dear, you shall
make acquaintance with our cuckoo."
The cuckoo " that lived in a clock ! " Griselda
gazed round her eagerly. Where was the clock?
She could see nothing in the least like one, only
i.] TEE OLD HOUSE. 17
up on the wall in one corner was what looked like a
miniature house, of dark brown carved wood. It was
not so very like a house, but it certainly had a roof
— a roof with deep projecting eaves ; and, looking
closer, yes, it was a clock, after all, only the figures,
which had once been gilt, had grown dim with age,
like everything else, and the hands at a little dis-
tance were hardly to be distinguished from the face.
Miss Grizzel stood perfectly still, looking up at
the clock; Griselda beside her, in breathless ex-
pectation. Presently there came a sort of distant
rumbling. Something was going to happen.
Suddenly two little doors above the clock face,
which Griselda had not known were there, sprang
open with a burst and out flew a cuckoo, flapped
his wings, and uttered his pretty cry, " Cuckoo !
cuckoo ! cuckoo ! " Miss Grizzel counted aloud,
" Seven, eight, nine, ten." " Yes, he never makes
a mistake," she added triumphantly. " All these
long years I have never known him wrong. There
18 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
are no such clocks made nowadays, I can assure
you, my dear."
" But is it a clock ? Isn't he alive ? " exclaimed
Griselda. "He looked at me and nodded his
head, before he flapped his wings and went in to
his house again — he did indeed, aunt," she said
earnestly; "just like saying, 'How do you do?'
to me."
Again Miss Grizzel smiled, the same odd yet
pleased smile that Griselda had seen on her face
at breakfast. " Just what Sybilla used to say,"
she murmured. "Well, my dear," she added
aloud, "it is quite right he should say, 'How do
you do ? ' to you. It is the first time he has seen
you, though many a year ago he knew your dear
grandmother, and your father, too, when he was a
little boy. You will find him a good friend, and
one that can teach you many lessons."
"What, Aunt Grizzel?" inquired Griselda,
looking puzzled.
i.] THE OLD HOUSE. 19
"Punctuality, for one thing, and faithful dis-
charge of duty," replied Miss Grizzel.
"May I come to see the cuckoo — to watch for
him coming out, sometimes ? " asked Griselda, who
felt as if she could spend all day looking up at the
clock, watching for her little friend's appearance.
"You will see him several times a day," said
her aunt, "for it is in this little room I intend you
to prepare your tasks. It is nice and quiet, and
nothing to disturb you, and close to the room
where your Aunt Tabitha and I usually sit."
So saying, Miss Grizzel opened a second door
in the little ante-room, and, to Griselda's surprise,
at the foot of a short flight of stairs through
another door, half open, she caught sight of her
Aunt Tabitha, knitting quietly by the fire, in the
room in which they had breakfasted.
"What a very funny house it is, Aunt Grizzel,"
she said, as she followed her aunt down the steps.
" Every room has so many doors, and you come
20 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
back to where you were just when you think you
are ever so far off. I shall never be able to find
my way about."
" Oh yes, you will, my clear, very soon," said her
aunt encouragingly.
"She is very kind," thought Griselda; "but I
wish she wouldn't call my lessons tasks. It
makes them sound so dreadfully hard. But, any
way, I'm glad I'm to do them in the room where
that dear cuckoo lives."
n.] IMPATIENT GRISELDA. 21
CHAPTER H.
1M PATIENT GRISELDA.
"... fairies but seldom appear ;
If we do wrong we must expect
. That it will cost us dear ! "
It was all very well for a few days. Griselda
found plenty to amuse herself with while the
novelty lasted, enough to prevent her missing
very badly the home she had left "over the sea,"
and the troop of noisy merry brothers who teased
and petted her. Of course she missed them, but
not " dreadfully." She was neither homesick nor
"dull."
It was not quite such smooth sailing when
lessons began. She did not dislike lessons ; in
22 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
fact, she had always thought she was rather fond
of them. But the having to do them alone was
not lively, and her teachers were very strict. The
worst of all was the writing and arithmetic master,
a funny little old man who wore knee-breeches and
took snuff, and called her aunt " Madame," bowing
formally whenever he addressed her. He screwed
Griselda up into such an unnatural attitude to
write her copies, that she really felt as if she
would never come straight and loose again; and
the arithmetic part of his instructions was even
worse. Oh ! what sums in addition he gave her \
Griselda had never been partial to sums, and her
rather easy-going governess at home had not, to
tell the truth, been partial to them either. And
Mr. — I can't remember the little old gentleman's
name. Suppose we call him Mr. Ivneebreeches —
Mr. Kneebreeches, when he found this out, con-
scientiously put her back to the very beginning.
It was dreadful, really. He came twice a
ii.] IMPATIENT GBISELDA. 23
week, and the days he didn't come were as bad as
those he did, for he left her a whole row I was
going to say, but you couldn't call Mr. Knee-
breeches' addition sums "rows," they were far too
fat and wide across to be so spoken of! — whole
slatefuls of these terrible mountains of figures to
climb wearily to the top of. And not to climb
once up merely. The terrible thing was Mr. Knee-
breeches' favourite method of what he called
"proving." I can't explain it — it is far beyond
my poor powers — but it had something to do with
cutting off the top line, after you had added it all
up and had actually done the sum, you understand
— cutting off the top line and adding the long rows
up again without it, and then joining it on again
somewhere else.
" I wouldn't mind so much," said poor Griselda,
one day, "if it was any good. But you see, Aunt
Grizzel, it isn't. For I'm just as likely to do the
proving wrong as the sum itself — more likely, for
24 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
I'm always so tired when I get to the proving — and
so all that's proved is that something's wrong, and
I'm sure that isn't any good, except to make me
cross."
" Hush ! " said her aunt gravely. " That is not
the way for a little girl to speak. Improve these
golden hours of youth, Griselda; they will never
return."
"I hope not," muttered Griselda, "if it means
doing sums."
Miss Grizzel fortunately was a little deaf; she
did not hear this remark. Just then the cuckoo
clock struck eleven.
"Good little cuckoo," said Miss Grizzel. "What
an example he sets you. His life is spent in the
faithful discharge of duty;" and so saying she left
the room.
The cuckoo was still telling the hour — eleven
took a good while. It seemed to Griselda that the
bird repeated her aunt's last words. " Faith — ful,
ii.] IMPATIENT GRISELDA. 25
dis — charge, of — your, du — ty," he said, " faith —
ful."
" You horrid little creature ! " exclaimed Griselda
in a passion; "what business have you to mock
mo ? "
She seized a book, the first that came to hand,
and flung it at the bird who was just beginning
his eleventh cuckoo. He disappeared with a snap,
disappeared without flapping his wings, or, as
Griselda always fancied he did, giving her a
friendly nod, and in an instant all was silent.
Griselda felt a little frightened. What had she
done ? She looked up at the clock. It seemed
just the same as usual, the cuckoo's doors closely
shut, no sign of any disturbance. Could it have
been her fancy only that he had sprung back more
hastily than he would have done but for her throw-
ing the book at him ? She began to hope so, and
tried to go on with her lessons. But it was no use.
Though she really gave her best attention to the
2G THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
long addition sums, and found that by so doing
she managed them much better than before, she
could not feel happy or at ease. Every few
minutes she glanced up at the clock, as if expect-
ing the cuckoo to come out, though she knew quite
well there was no chance of his doing so till twelve
o'clock, as it was only the hours, not the half
hours and quarters, that he told.
" I wish it was twelve o'clock," she said to her-
self anxiously more than once.
If only the clock had not been so very high up
on the wall, she would have been tempted to climb
up and open the little doors, and peep in to satisfy
herself as to the cuckoo's condition. But there
was no possibility of this. The clock was far, very
far above her reach, and there was no high piece
of furniture standing near, upon which she could
have climbed to get to it. There was nothing to
be done but to wait for twelve o'clock.
And; after all, she did not wait for twelve o'clock,
II.] IMPATIENT GRISELDA. 27
for just about half -past eleven, Miss Grizzel's voice
was heard calling to her to put on her hat and
cloak quickly, and oorne out to walk up and down
the terrace with her.
" It is fine just now," said Miss Grizzel, " but
there is a prospect of rain before long. You must
leave your lessons for the present, and finish them
in the afternoon."
" I have finished them," said Griselda, meekly.
" All ? " inquired her aunt.
"Yes, all," replied Griselda.
" Ah, well, then, this afternoon, if the rain holds
off, we shall drive to Merrybrow Hall, and inquire
for the health of your dear godmother, Lady
Lavander," said Miss Grizzel.
Poor Griselda ! There were few things she
disliked more than a drive with her aunts. They
went in the old yellow chariot, with all the windows
up, and of course Griselda had to sit with her back
to the horses, which made her very uncomfortable
28 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
■when she had no air, and had to sit still for so
long.
Merrybrow Hall was a large house, quite as
old and much grander, but not nearly so wonderful
as the home of Griselda's aunts. It was six miles
off, and it took a very long time indeed to drive
there in the rumbling old chariot, for the old
horses were fat and wheezy, and the old coachman
fat and wheezy too. Lady Lavander was, of
course, old too — very old indeed, and rather grumpy
and very deaf. Miss Grizzel and Miss Tabitha
had the greatest respect for her ; she always called
them " My dear," as if they were quite girls, and
they listened to all she said as if her words were of
gold. For some mysterious reason she had been
invited to be Griselda's godmother; but, as she
had never shown her any proof of affection beyond
giving her a prayer-book, and hoping, whenever
she saw her, that she was " a good little miss,"
Griselda did not feel any particular cause for grati-
tude to her.
ii.] IMPATIENT GBISELDA. 2D
The drive seemed longer and duller than ever
this afternoon, but Griselda bore it meekly; and
when Lady Lavander, as usual, expressed her
hopes about her, the little girl looked down
modestly, feeling her cheeks grow scarlet. " I am
not a good little girl at all," she felt inclined to
call out. " I'm very bad and cruel. I believe I've
killed the dear little cuckoo."
What would the three old ladies have thought if
she had called it out ? As it was, Lady Lavander
patted her approvingly, said she loved to see
young people modest and humble -minded, and
gave her a slice of very highly- spiced, rather
musty gingerbread, which Griselda couldn't bear.
All the way home Griselda felt in a fever of
impatience to rush up to the ante-room and see if
the cuckoo was all right again. It was late and
dark when the chariot at last stopped at the door
of the old house. Miss Grizzel got out slowly,
and still more slowly Miss Tabitha followed her.
SO THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Griselda was obliged to restrain herself arid move
demurely.
"It is past your supper-time, my dear," said
Miss Grizzel. " Go up at once to your room, and
Dorcas shall bring some supper to you. Late
hours are bad for young people."
Griselda obediently wished her aunts good-night,
and went quietly upstairs. But once out of sight,
at the first landing, she changed her pace. She
turned to the left instead of to the right, which led
to her own room, and flew rather than ran along
the dimly-lighted passage, at the end of which a
door led into the great saloon. She opened the
door. All was quite dark. It was impossible to fly
or run across the great saloon ! Even in daylight
this would have been a difficult matter. Griselda
felt her way as besc she could, past the Chinese
cabinet and the pot-pourri jar, till she got to the
ante-room door. It was open, and now, knowing
her way better, she hurried in. But what was the
xl] IMPATIENT GRISELBA. 31
use? All was silent, save the tick-tick of the
cuckoo clock in the corner. Oh, if only the
cuckoo would come out and call the hour as usual,
what a weight would be lifted off Griselda's heart !
She had no idea what o'clock it was. It might
be close to the hour, or it might be just past it.
She stood listening for a few minutes, then hear-
ing Miss Grizzel's voice in the distance, she felt
that she dared not stay any longer, and turned to
feel her way out of the room again. Just as she
got to the door it seemed to her that something
softly brushed her cheek, and a very, very faint
" cuckoo " sounded as it were in the air close to
her.
Startled, but not frightened, Griselda stood
perfectly still.
"Cuckoo," she said, softly. But there was no
answer.
Again the tones of Miss Grizzel's voice coming
upstairs reached her ear.
32 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" I must go," said Griselda ; and finding her way
across the saloon without, by great good luck,
tumbling against any of the many breakable
treasures with which it was filled, she flew down
the long passage again, reaching her own room
just before Dorcas appeared with her supper.
Griselda slept badly that night. She was
constantly dreaming of the cuckoo, fancying she
heard his voice, and then waking with a start to
find it was only fancy. She looked pale and
heavy-eyed when she came down to breakfast
the next morning ; and her Aunt Tabitha, who
was alone in the room when she entered, began
immediately asking her what was the matter.
" I am sure you are going to be ill, child," she
said, nervously. " Sister Grizzel must give you
some medicine. I wonder what would be the best.
Tansy tea is an excellent thing when one has taken
cold, or "
But the rest of Miss Tabitha's sentence was
ii.] IMPATIENT GBISELDA. 33
never heard, for at this moment Miss Grizzel
came hurriedly into the room — her cap awry,
her shawl disarranged, her face very pale. I
hardly think any one had ever seen her so discom-
posed before.
"Sister Tabitha!" she exclaimed, "what can
be going to happen? The cuckoo clock has
stopped."
" The cuckoo clock has stopped ! " repeated Miss
Tabitha, holding up her hands ; " i??ipossible ! "
" But it has, or rather I should say — dear me,
I am so upset I cannot explain myself — the cuckoo
has stopped. The clock is going on, but the
cuckoo has not told the hours, and Dorcas is of
opinion that he left off doing so yesterday. What
can be going to happen ? What shall we do ? "
"What can we do?" said Miss Tabitha.
"Should we send for the watch-maker?"
Miss Grizzel shook her head.
" 'Twould be worse than useless. Were we to
D
34 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
search the world over, we could find no one to
put it right. Fifty years and more, Tabitha, fifty
years and more, it has never missed an hour ! We
are getting old, Tabitha, our day is nearly over ;
perhaps 'tis to remind us of this."
Miss Tabitha did not reply. She was weeping
silently. The old ladies seemed to have forgotten
the presence of their niece, but Griselda could
not bear to see their distress. She finished her
breakfast as quickly as she could, and left the
room.
On her way upstairs she met Dorcas.
" Have you heard what has happened, little
missie ? " said the old servant.
" Yes," replied Griselda.
"My ladies are in great trouble," continued
Dorcas, who seemed inclined to be more com-
municative than usual, "and no wonder. For
fifty years that clock has never gone wrong."
" Can't it be put right? " asked the child.
ii.] INPATIENT GRISELDA. 35
Dorcas shook her head.
" No good would come of interfering," she said.
"What must be, must be. The luck of the house
hangs on that clock. Its maker spent a good part
of his life over it, and his last words were that it
would bring good luck to the house that owned
it, but that trouble would follow its silence. It's
my belief," she added solemnly, " that it's a fairy
clock, neither more nor less, for good luck it has
brought there's no denying. There are no cows
like ours, missie — their milk is a proverb here-
abouts ; there are no hens like ours for laying all
the year round ; there are no roses like ours.
And there's always a friendly feeling in this house,
and always has been. 'Tis not a house for wran-
gling and jangling, and sharp words. The ' good
people ' can't stand that. Nothing drives them
away like ill-temper or anger."
Griselda's conscience gave her a sharp prick.
Could it be her doing that trouble was coming
THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
upon the old house ? What a punishment for a
moment's fit of ill-temper.
"I wish you wouldn't talk that way, Dorcas/'
she said; "it makes me so unhappy."
" What a feeling heart the child has ! " said the
old servant as she went on her way downstairs.
" It's true — she is very like Miss Sybilla."
That day was a very weary and sad one for
Griselda. She was oppressed by a feeling she
did not understand. She knew she had done
wrong, but she had sorely repented it, and " I do
think the cuckoo might have come back again,"
she said to herself, " if he is a fairy; and if he isn't,
it can't be true what Dorcas says."
Her aunts made no allusion to the subject in
her presence, and almost seemed to have forgotten
that she had known of their distress. They were
more grave and silent than usual, but otherwise
things went on in their ordinary way. Griselda
spent the morning " at her tasks," in the ante-
ii.] IMPATIENT GBISELDA.
room, but was thankful to get away from the tick-
tick of the clock in the corner and out into the
garden.
But there, alas ! it was just as bad. The rooks
seemed to know that something was the matter ;
they set to work making such a chatter immediately
Griselda appeared that she felt inclined to run back
into the house again.
"I am sure they are talking about me," she
said to herself. " Perhaps they are fames too.
I am beginning to think I don't like fairies."
She was glad when bed-time came. It was a
sort of reproach to her to see her aunts so pale
and troubled; and though she tried to persuade
herself that she thought them very silly, she could
not throw off the uncomfortable feeling.
She was so tired when she went to bed — tired in
the disagreeable way that comes from a listless,
uneasy day — that she fell asleep at once and slept
heavily. When she woke, which she did suddenly,
28 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
and with a start, it was still perfectly dark, like the
first morning that she had wakened in the old
house. It seemed to her that she had not wakened
of herself — something had roused her. Yes ! there
it was again, a very, very soft distant " cuckoo."
Was it distant ? She could not tell. Almost she
could have fancied it was close to her.
" If it's that cuckoo come back again, I'll catch
him ! " exclaimed Griselda.
She darted out of bed, felt her way to the door,
which was closed, and opening it let in a rush of
moonlight from the unshuttered passage window.
In another moment her little bare feet were pat-
tering along the passage at full speed, in the
direction of the great saloon.
For Griselda's childhood among the troop of
noisy brothers had taught her one lesson — she
was afraid of nothing. Or rather perhaps I should
say she had never learnt that there was anything
to be afraid of ! And is there ?
iii.J OBEYING ORDERS. SO
CHAPTEK III.
OBEYING OBDEBS.
" Little girl, thou must thy part fulfil,
If we're to take kindly to ours :
Then pull up the weeds with a will,
And fairies will cherish the flowers."
Thebe was moonlight, though not so mucn, in the
saloon and the ante-room, too ; for though the
windows, like those in Griselda's bed-room, had the
shutters closed, there was a round part at the top,
high up, which the shutters did not reach to, and
in crept, through these clear uncovered panes,
quite as many moonbeams, you may be sure, as
could find their way.
Griselda, eager though she was, could not help
standing still a moment to admire the effect.
40 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" It looks prettier with the light coming in at
those holes at the top than even if the shutters
were open," she said to herself. " How goldy-
silvery the cabinet looks ; and, yes, I do declare,
the mandarins are nodding ! I wonder if it is out
of politeness to me, or does Aunt Grizzel come in
last thing at night and touch them to make them
keep nodding till morning ? I suppose they're a
sort of policemen to the palace; and I dare say
there are all sorts of beautiful things inside. How
I should like to see all through it ! "
But at this moment the faint tick-tick of the
cuckoo clock in the next room, reaching her ear,
reminded her of the object of this midnight
expedition of hers. She hurried into the ante-
room.
It looked darker than the great saloon, for it had
but one window. But through the uncovered space
at the top of this window there penetrated some
brilliant moonbeams, one of which lighted up
"why won't vol" speak to me?" [Page 41
in.] OBEYING ORDERS. 41
brightly the face of the clock with its queer over-
hanging eaves.
Griselda approached it and stood below, looking
up.
" Cuckoo," she said softly — very softly.
But there was no reply.
" Cuckoo," she repeated rather more loudly.
" Why won't you speak to me? I know you are
there, and you're not asleep, for I heard your
voice in my own room. Why won't you come out,
cuckoo ? "
" Tick-tick " said the clock, but there was no
other reply.
Griselda felt ready to cry.
"Cuckoo," she said reproachfully, "I didn't
think you were so hard-hearted. I have been so
unhappy about you, and I was so pleased to hear
your voice again, for I thought I had killed you, or
hurt you very badly; and I didn't mean to hurt
you, cuckoo. I was sorry the moment I had done
42 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
it, dreadfully sorry. Dear cuckoo, won't you
forgive me?"
There was a little sound at last — a faint coming
sound, and by the moonlight Griselda saw the
doors open, and out flew the cuckoo. He stood
still for a moment, looked round him as it were,
then gently flapped his wings, and uttered his
usual note — " Cuckoo."
Griselda stood in breathless expectation, but in
her delight she could not help very softly clapping
her hands.
The cuckoo cleared his throat. You never heard
such a funny little noise as he made ; and then, in
a very clear, distinct, but yet " cuckoo-y " voice, ho
spoke.
" Griselda," he said, " are you truly sorry ? "
" I told you I was," she replied. " But I didn't
feel so very naughty, cuckoo. I didn't, really.
I was only vexed for one minute, and when I threw
the book I seemed to be a verv little in fun, too.
m.] OBEYING ORDEBS. 43
And it made me so unhappy when you went away,
and my poor aunts have been dreadfully unhappy
too. If you hadn't come hack I should have told
them to-morrow what I had done. I would have
told them before, but I was afraid it would have
made them more unhappy. I thought I had hurt
you dreadfully."
" So you did," said the cuckoo.
" But you look quite well," said Griselda.
"It was my feelings," replied the cuckoo ; " and
I couldn't help going away. I have to obey orders
like other people."
Griselda stared. "How do you mean?" she
asked.
" Never mind. You can't understand at pre-
sent," said the cuckoo. " You can understand
about obeying your orders, and you see, when you
don't, things go wrong."
"Yes," said Griselda humbly, "they certainly
do. But, cuckoo," she continued, "I never used
44 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
to get into tempers at home — hardly never, at
least ; and I liked my lessons then, and I never was
scolded about them."
"What's wrong here, then?" said the cnckoo.
"It isn't often that things go wrong in this house."
" That's what Dorcas says," said Griselda.
"It must be with my being a child — my aunts and
the house and everything have got out of children's
ways."
About time they did," remarked the cuckoo
drily.
"And so," continued Griselda, "it is really very
dull. I have lots of lessons, but it isn't so much
that I mind. It is that I've no one to play with."
" There's something in that," said the cuckoo.
He flapped his wings and was silent for a minute
or two. "I'll consider about it," he observed at
last.
"Thank you," said Griselda, not exactly knowing
what else to say.
in.] OBEYING ORDERS. 45
"And in the meantime," continued the cuckoo,
"you'd better obey present orders and go Jback to
bed."
"Shall I say good-night to you, then?" asked
Griselda somewhat timidly.
"You're quite -welcome to do so," replied the
cuckoo. " Why shouldn't you ? "
"You see I wasn't sure if you would like it,"
returned Griselda, "for of course you're not like
a person, and — and — I've been told all sorts of
queer things about what fairies like and don't
like."
""Who said I was a fairy? " inquired the cuckoo.
" Dorcas did, and, of course, my own common
sense did too," replied Griselda. " You must be a
fairy — you couldn't be anything else."
" I might be a fairyfied cuckoo," suggested the
bird.
Griselda looked puzzled.
"I don't understand," she said, "and I donr'
46 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
think it could make much difference. But what-
ever you are, I wish you would tell me one thing."
" What ? " said the cuckoo.
" I want to know, now that you've forgiven me
for throwing the book at you, have you come back
for good? "
" Certainly not for evil," replied the cuckoo.
Griselda gave a little wriggle. " Cuckoo, you're
laughing at me," she said. "I mean, have you
come back to stay and cuckoo as usual and make
my aunts happy again ? "
" You'll see in the morning," said the cuckoo.
"Now go off to bed."
"Good night," said Griselda, "and thank you,
and please don't forget to let me know when you've
considered."
" Cuckoo, cuckoo," was her little friend's reply.
Griselda thought it was meant for good night, but
the fact of the matter was that at that exact second
of time it was two o'clock in the morning.
in.] OBEYING ORDERS. 47
She made her way back to bed. She had been
standing some time talking to the cuckoo, but,
though it was now well on in November, she did
not feel the least cold, nor sleepy! She felt as
happy and light-hearted as possible, and she
wished it was morning, that she might get up.
Yet the moment she laid her little brown curly
head on the pillow, she fell asleep ; and it seemed
to her that just as she dropped off a soft feathery
wing brushed her cheek gently and a tiny "Cuckoo"
sounded in her ear.
"When she woke it was bright morning, really
bright morning, for the wintry sun was already
sending some clear yellow rays out into the pale
grey-blue sky.
" It must be late," thought Griselda, when she
had opened the shutters and seen how light it was.
" I must have slept a long time. I feel so beauti-
fully unsleepy now. I must dress quickly — how
nice it will be to see my aunts look happy again !
48 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
I don't even care if they scold me for being
late."
But, after all, it was not so much later than
usual ; it was only a much brighter morning than
they had had for some time. Griselda did dress her-
self very quickly, however. As she went downstairs
two or three of the clocks in the house, for there
were several, were striking eight. These clocks must
have been a little before the right time, for it was
not till they had again relapsed into silence that
there rang out from the ante-room the clear sweet
tones, eight times repeated, of " Cuckoo."
Miss Grizzel and Miss Tabitha were already at
the breakfast -table, but they received their little
niece most graciously. Nothing was said about
the clock, however, till about half-way through
the meal, when Griselda, full of eagerness to know
if her aunts were aware of the cuckoo's return,
could restrain herself no longer.
"Aunt Grizzel," she said, "isn't the cuckoo
all right again ? "
m.] OBEYING ORDERS. 49
" Yes, my dear. I am delighted to say it is."
replied Miss Grizzel.
"Did you get it put right, Aunt Grizzel?"
inquired Griselda, slyly.
"Little girls should not ask so many questions,"
replied Miss Grizzel, mysteriously. " It is all
right again, and that is enough. During fifty
years that cuckoo has never, till yesterday, missed
an hour. If you, in your sphere, my dear, do as
well during fifty years, you won't have done
badly."
"No, indeed, you won't have done badly,"
repeated Miss Tabitha.
But though the two old ladies thus tried to
improve the occasion by a little lecturing, Griselda
could see that at the bottom of their hearts they
were both so happy that, even if she had been very
naughty indeed, they could hardly have made up
then- minds to scold her.
She was not at all inclined to be naughty this
50 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
day. She had something to think about and look
forward to, which made her quite a different little
girl, and made her take heart in doing her lessons
as well as she possibly could.
" I wonder when the cuckoo will have considered
enough about my having no one to play with?"
she said to herself, as she was walking up and
down the terrace at the back of the house.
" Caw, caw ! " screamed a rook just over her
head, as if in answer to her thought.
Griselda looked up at him.
" Your voice isn't half so pretty as the cuckoo's,
Mr. Kook," she said. "All the same, I dare say
I should make friends with you, if I understood
what you meant. How funny it would be to know
all the languages of the birds and the beasts, like
the prince in the fairy tale ! I wonder if I should
wish for that, if a fairy gave me a wish? No,
I don't think I would. I'd far rather have the
fairy carpet that would take you anywhere you
in.] OBEYING ORDERS. 51
liked in a minute. I'd go to China to see if all
the people there look like Aunt Grizzel's mandarins ;
and I'd first of all, of course, go to fairyland."
"You must come in now, little missie," said
Dorcas's voice. " Miss Grizzel says you have had
play enough, and there's a nice fire in the ante-
room for you to do your lessons by."
"Play!" repeated Griselda indignantly, as she
turned to follow the old servant. "Do you call
walking up and down the terrace ' play,' Dorcas ?
I mustn't loiter even to pick a flower, if there were
any, for fear of catching cold, and I mustn't run
for fear of overheating myself. I declare, Dorcas,
if I don't have some play soon, or something to
amuse me, I think I'll run away."
" Nay, nay, missie, don't talk like that. You'd
never do anything so naughty, and you so like
Miss Sybilla, who was so good."
" Dorcas, I'm tired of being told I'm like Miss
Sybilla " said Griselda, impatiently. " She was
52 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
lay grandmother ; no one would like to be told
fliey were like their grandmother. It makes me
feel as if my face must he all screwy up and
wrinkly, and as if I should have spectacles on
and a wig."
" Tliat is not like what Miss Sybilla was when
I first saw her," said Dorcas. " She was younger
than you, missie, and as pretty as a fairy."
" Was she ? " exclaimed Griselda, stopping short.
"Yes, indeed she was. She might have been
a fairy, so sweet she was and gentle — and yet so
merry. Every creature loved her; even the
animals about seemed to know her, as if she was
one of themselves. She brought good luck to the
house, and it was a sad day when she left it."
"I thought you said it was the cuckoo that
brought good luck?" said Griselda.
"Well, so it was. The cuckoo and Miss Sybilla
came here the same day. It was left to her by
her mother's father, with whom she had lived
in.] OBEYING ORDERS. 53
since she was a baby, and when he died she came
here to her sisters. She wasn't own sister to my
ladies, you see, missie. Her mother had come
from Germany, and it was in some strange place
there, where her grandfather lived, that the cuckoo
clock was made. They make wonderful clocks
there, I've been told, but none more wonderful
than our cuckoo, I'm sure."
" No, I'm sure not," said Griselda, softly.
"Why didn't Miss Sybilla take it with her when
she was married and went away ? "
" She knew her sisters were so fond of it. It
was like a memory of her left behind for them.
It was like a part of her. And do you know,
missie, the night she died — she died soon after your
father was born, a year after she was married —
for a whole hour, from twelve to one, that cuckoo
went on cuckooing in a soft, sad way, like some
living creature in trouble. Of course, we did not
know anything was wrong with her, and folks said
54 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap,
something had caught some of the springs of the
works ; but I didn't think so, and never shall.
And "
But here Dorcas's reminiscences were abruptly
brought to a close by Miss Grizzel's appearance at
the other end of the terrace.
" Griselda, what are you loitering so for ?
Dorcas, you should have hastened, not delayed
Miss Griselda."
So Griselda was hurried off to her lessons, and
Dorcas to her kitchen. But Griselda did not much
mind. She had plenty to think of and wonder
about, and she liked to do her lessons in the ante-
room, with the tick-tick of the clock in her ears, and
the feeling that perhaps the cuckoo was watching
her through some invisible peep-hole in his closed
doors.
"And if he sees," thought Griselda, "if he sees
how hard I am trying to do my lessons well, it will
perhaps make him be quick about ' considering.' "
in.] OBEYING OBDEBS. 55
So she did try very hard. And she didn't speak
to the cuckoo when he came out to say it was four
o'clock. She was busy, and he was busy. She
felt it was better to wait till he gave her some
sign of being ready to talk to her again.
For fairies, you know, children, however charm-
ing, are sometimes rather queer to have to do with.
They don't like to be interfered with, or treated
except with very great respect, and they have their
own ideas about what is proper and what isn't, I
can assure you.
I suppose it was with working so hard at her
lessons — most people would say it was with having
been up the night before, running about the house
in the moonlight; but as she had never felt so
"fresh" in her life as when she got up that
morning, it could hardly have been that — that
Griselda felt so tired and sleepy that evening, she
could hardly keep her eyes open. She begged to
go to bed quite half an hour earlier than usual,
56 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
which made Miss Tabitha afraid again that she
was going to be ill. But as there is nothing better
for children than to go to bed early, even if they
are going to be ill, Miss Grizzel told her to say
good-night, and to ask Dorcas to give her a wine-
glassful of elderberry wine, nice and hot, after she
was in bed.
Griselda had no objection to the elderberry wine,
though she felt she was having it on false pretences.
She certainly did not need it to send her to sleep,
for almost before her head touched the pillow she
was as sound as a top. She had slept a good long
while, when again she wakened suddenly — just as
she had done the night before, and again with the
feeling that something had wakened her. And the
queer thing was that the moment she was awake
she felt so very awake — she had no inclination to
stretch and yawn and hope it wasn't quite time to
get up, and think how nice and warm bed was, and
how cold it was outside ! She sat straight up, and
IIL] OBEYING ORDERS. 57
peered out into the darkness, feeling quite ready for
an adventure.
" Is it you, cuckoo ? " she said softly.
There was no answer, but listening intently, the
child fancied she heard a faint rustling or fluttering
in the corner of the room by the door. She got
up and, feeling her way, opened it, and the instant
she had done so she heard, a few steps only in
front of her it seemed, the familiar .notes, very,
very soft and whispered, " Cuckoo, cuckoo."
It went on and on, down the passage, Griselda
trotting after. There was no moon to-night, heavy
clouds had quite hidden it, and outside the rain
was falling heavily. Griselda could hear it on the
window-panes, through the closed shutters and all.
But dark as it was, she made her way along with-
out any difficulty, down the passage, across the
great' saloon, in through the ante -room door,
guided only by the little voice now and then to be
heard in front of her. She came to a standstill
58 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chai
right before the clock, and stood there for a minute
or two patiently waiting.
She had not very long to wait. There came the
usual murmuring sound, then the doors above the
clock face opened — she heard them open, it was
far too dark to see — and in his ordinary voice, clear
and distinct (it was just two o'clock, so the cuckoo
was killing two birds with one stone, telling the
hour and greeting Griselda at once), the bird sang
out, "Cuckoo, cuckoo."
" Good evening, cuckoo," said Griselda, when he
had finished.
" Good morning, you mean," said the cuckoo.
"Good morning, then, cuckoo," said Griselda.
" Have you considered about me, cuckoo ? "
The cuckoo cleared his throat.
" Have you learnt to obey orders yet, Griselda ?"
he inquired.
"I'm trying," replied Griselda. "But you see,
cuckoo, I've not had very long to learn in — it was
only last night you told me, you know."
m.] OBEYING ORDERS. 59
The cuckoo sighed.
" You've a great deal to learn, Griselda."
" I dare say I have," she said. " But I can tell
you one thing, cuckoo — whatever lessons I have, I
couldn't ever have any worse than those addition
sums of Mr. Kneebreeches'. I have made up
my mind about that, for to-day, do you know,
cuckoo "
" Yesterday," corrected the cuckoo. " Always oe
exact in your statements, Griselda."
"Well, yesterday, then," said Griselda, rather
tartly; "though when you know quite well what I
mean, I don't see that you need be so very par-
ticular. Well, as I was saying, I tried and tried,
but still they were fearful. They were, indeed."
"You've a great deal to learn, Griselda," re-
peated the cuckoo.
" I wish you wouldn't say that so often," said
Griselda. "I thought you were going to play
with me."
60 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" There's something in that," said the cuckoo,
"there's something in that. I should like to talk
about it. But we could talk more comfortably if
you would come up here and sit beside me."
Griselda thought her friend must be going out of
his mind.
" Sit beside you up there ! " she exclaimed.
" Cuckoo, how could I ? I'm far, far too big."
"Big!" returned the cuckoo. "What do you
mean by big ? It's all a matter of fancy. Don't
you know that if the world and everything in it,
counting yourself of course, was all made little
enough to go into a walnut, you'd never find out
the difference."
"Wouldn't I?" said Griselda, feeling rather
muddled; "but, not counting myself, cuckoo, I
would then, wouldn't I ? "
"Nonsense," said the cuckoo hastily; "you've a
great deal to learn, and one thing is, not to argue.
Nobody should argue; it's a shocking bad habit,
in.] OBEYING ORDERS. 61
and ruins the digestion. Come up here and sit
beside me comfortably. Catch hold of the chain ;
you'll find you can manage if you try.
" But it'll stop the clock," said Griselda. " Aunt
Grizzel said I was never to touch the weights or
the chains."
"Stuff," said the cuckoo; "it won't stop the
clock. Catch hold of the chains and swing your-
self up. There now— I told you you could manage
it."
$2 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
CHAPTEE IV.
THE COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS.
"We're all nodding, nid-nid- nodding."
How she managed it she never knew ; but, some-
how or other, it teas managed. She seemed to
slide up the chain just as easily as in a general
way she would have slidden down, only without
any disagreeable anticipation of a bump at the end
of the journey. And when she got to the top how
wonderfully different it looked from anything she
could have expected ! The doors stood open, and
Griselda found them quite big enough, or herself
quite small enough — which it was she couldn't
tell, and as it was all a matter of fancy she
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 03
decided not to trouble to inquire — to pass through
quite comfortably.
And inside there was the most charming little
snuggery imaginable. It was something like a
saloon railway carriage — it seemed to be all lined
and carpeted and everything, with rich mossy red
velvet ; there was a little round table in the middle
and two arm-chairs, on one of which sat the
cuckoo — " quite like other people,'' thought
Griselda to herself — while the other, as he pointed
out to Griselda by a little nod, was evidently
intended for her.
" Thank you," said she, sitting down on the
•chair as she spoke.
" Are you comfortable ? " inquired the cuckoo.
" Quite," replied Griselda, looking about her
with great satisfaction. " Are all cuckoo clocks
like this when you get up inside them?" she
inquired. "I can't think how there's room for
this dear little place between the clock and the
6-i THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
wall. Is it a hole cut out of the wall on purpose,
cuckoo ? "
"Hush!" said the cuckoo, "we've got othe:
things to talk about. First, shall I lend you one ot
my mantles ? You may feel cold."
" I don't just now," replied Griselda ; " but per-
haps I mighty
She looked at her little bare feet as she spoke,
and wondered why they weren't cold, for it was
very chilblainy weather.
The cuckoo stood up, and with one of his claws
reached from a corner where it was hanging a
cloak which Griselda had not before noticed. For
it was hanging wrong side out, and the lining was
red velvet, very like what the sides of the little
room were covered with, so it was no wonder she
had not noticed it.
Had it been hanging the right side out she must
have done so ; this side was so very wonderful !
It was all feather*2 — feathers of every shade and
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 65
colour, but beautifully worked in, somehow, so as to
lie quite smoothly and evenly, one colour melting
away into another like those in a prism, so that
you could hardly tell where one began and another
ended.
"What a lovely cloak!" said Griselda, wrapping
it round her and feeling even more comfortable
than before, as she watched the rays of the little
lamp in the roof — I think I was forgetting to tell
you that the cuckoo's boudoir was lighted by a
clear little lamp set into the red velvet roof like
a pearl in a ring — playing softly on the brilliant
colours of the feather mantle.
"It's better than lovely," said the cuckoo, "as
you shall see. Now, Griselda," he continued, in
the tone of one coming to business — " now,
Griselda, let us talk."
"We have been talking," said Griselda, "ever
so long. I am very comfortable. When you say
' let us talk ' like that, it makes me forget all I
F
66 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
wanted to say. Just let me sit still and say what-
ever comes into my head."
"That won't do," said the cuckoo; "we must
have a plan of action."
" A what ? " said Griselda.
" You see you have a great deal to learn," said
the cuckoo triumphantly. " You don't understand
what I say."
"But I didn't come up here to learn," said
Griselda; "I can do that down there;" and she
nodded her head in the direction of the ante-room
tahle. " I want to play."
"Just so," said the cuckoo; "that's what I
want to talk about. What do you call 'play' —
blindman's-buff and that sort of thing ? "
" No," said Griselda, considering. " I'm getting
rather too big for that kind of play. Besides,
cuckoo, you and I alone couldn't have much fun at
blindman's-buff; there'd be only me to catch you
or vou to catch me."
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 67
" Ob, we could easily get more," said the cuckoo.
" The mandarins would be pleased to join."
" The mandarins ! " repeated Griselda. " Why,
cuckoo, they're not alive ! How could they play ? "
The cuckoo looked at her gravely for a minute,
then shook his head.
"You have a great deal to learn," he said
solemnly. " Don't you know that every tiling's
alive ? "
"No," said Griselda, "I don't; and I don't
know what you mean, and I don't think I want to
know what you mean. I want to talk about
playing."
"Well," said the cuckoo, "talk."
" What I call playing," pursued Griselda, " is —
I have thought about it now, you see — is being
amused. If you will amuse me, cuckoo, I will
count that you are playing with me."
" How shall I amuse you ? " inquired he.
" Oh, that's for you to find out ! " exclaimed
6S TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Griselda. "You might tell me fairy stories, you
know : if you're a fairy you should know lots ; or —
oh yes, of course that would be far nicer — if you
are a fairy you might take me with you to fairy-
land."
Again the cuckoo shook his head.
" That," said he, " I cannot do."
" Why not ? " said Griselda. " Lots of children
have been there."
"I doubt it," said the cuckoo. "Some may
have been, but not lots. And some may have
thought they had been there who hadn't really
been there at all. And as to those who have been
there, you may be sure of one thing — they were not
taken, they found their own way. No one ever was
taken to fairyland — to the real fairyland. They
may have been taken to the neighbouring countries,
but not to fairyland itself."
"And how is one ever to find one's own way
there ? " asked Griselda.
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 69
" That I cannot tell you either," replied the
cuckoo. " There are many roads there ; you may
find yours some day. And if ever you do find it,
be sure you keep what you see of it well swept and
clean, and then you may see further after a while.
Ah, yes, there are many roads and many doors
into fairyland ! "
"Doors ! " cried Griselda. "Are there any doors
into fairyland in this house ? "
"Several," said the cuckoo; "but don't waste
your time looking for them at present. It would
be no use."
" Then how will you amuse me ? " inquired
Griselda, in a rather disappointed tone.
"Don't you care to go anywhere except to fairy-
land ? " said the cuckoo.
" Oh yes, there are lots of places I wouldn't
mind seeing. Not geography sort of places — it
would be just like lessons to go to India and
Africa and all those places — but queer places, like
TO THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
the mines where the goblins make diamonds and
precious stones, and the caves down under the sea
where the mermaids live. And — oh, I've just
thought — now I'm so nice and little, I would like
to go all over the mandarins' palace in the great
saloon."
" That can be easily managed," said the cuckoo ;
"but — excuse me for an instant," he exclaimed
suddenly. He gave a spring forward and dis-
appeared. Then Griselda heard his voice outside
the doors, " Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo." It was
three o'clock.
The doors opened again to let him through, and
he re-settled himself on his chair. "As I was
saying," he went on, "nothing could be easier.
But that palace, as you call it, has an entrance on
the other side, as well as the one you know."
" Another door, do you mean ? " said Griselda.
" How funny ! Does it go through the wall ? And
where does it lead to 9 "
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 71
* It leads," replied the cuckoo, "it leads to the
country of the Nodding Mandarins."
" What fun ! " exclaimed Griselda, clapping her
hands. "Cuckoo, do let us go there. How can
we get down ? You can fly, but must I slide down
the chain again ? "
" Oh dear, no," said the cuckoo, "by no means.
You have only to stretch out your feather mantle,
flap it as if it was wings— so " — he flapped his own
wings encouragingly — " wish, and there you'll be."
" Where ? " said Griselda bewilderedly.
" Wherever you wish to be, of course," said the
cuckoo. " Are you ready ? Here goes."
"Wait — wait a moment," cried Griselda.
" Where am I to wish to be ? "
" Bless the child ! " exclaimed the cuckoo.
" Where do you wish to be ? You said you wanted
to visit the country of the Nodding Mandarins."
" Yes ; but am I to wish first to be in the palace
in the great saloon ? "
72 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" Certainly," replied the cuckoo. " That is the
entrance to Mandarin Land, and you said you
would like to see through it. So — you're surely
ready now ? "
" A thought has just struck me," said Griselda.
"How will you know what o'clock it is, so as to
come back in time to tell the next hour? My
aunts will get into such a fright if you go wrong
again! Are you sure we shall have time to go
to the mandarins' country to-night ? "
" Time ! " repeated the cuckoo ; " what is time ?
Ah, Griselda, you have a very great deal to learn !
What do you mean by time ? "
" I don't know," replied Griselda, feeling rather
snubbed. " Being slow or quick— I suppose that's
what I mean."
" And what is slow, and what is quick ? " said
the cuckoo. "All a matter of fancy! If every-
thing that's been done since the world was made
till now, was done over again in five minutes, you'd
never know the difference."
MANDARINS NODDING.
{Page 73.
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 73
" Oh, cuckoo, I wish you wouldn't ! " cried poor
Griselda; "you're worse than sums, you do so
puzzle me. It's like what you said ahout nothing
being big or little, only it's worse. Where would
all the days and hours be if there was nothing but
minutes ? Oh, cuckoo, you said you'd amuse me,
and you do nothing but puzzle me."
"It was your own fault. You wouldn't get
ready," said the cuckoo. " Noiv, here goes ! Flap
and wish."
Griselda flapped and wished. She felt a sort of
rustle in the air, that was all — then she found
herself standing with the cuckoo in front of the
Chinese cabinet, the door of which stood open,
while the mandarins on each side, nodding
politely, seemed to invite them to enter. Griselda
hesitated.
" Go on," said the cuckoo, patronizingly ;
" ladies first."
Griselda went on. To her surprise, inside the
74 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
cabinet it was quite light, though where the light
oame from that illuminated all the queer corners
and recesses and streamed out to the front, where
stood the mandarins, she could not discover.
The " palace " was not quite as interesting as she
had expected. There were lots of little rooms in it
opening on to balconies commanding, no doubt,
a splendid view of the great saloon; there were
ever so many little staircases leading to more little
rooms and balconies ; but it all seemed empty and
deserted.
" I don't care for it," said Griselda, stopping
short at last; "it's all the same, and there's nothing
to see. I thought my aunts kept ever so many
beautiful things in here, and there's nothing."
" Come along, then," said the cuckoo. "I didn't
expect you'd care for the palace, as you called it,
much. Let us go out the other way."
He hopped down a sort of little staircase near
which they were standing, and Griselda followed
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 75
him willingly enough. At the foot they found
themselves in a vestibule, much handsomer than
the entrance at the other side, and the cuckoo,
crossing it, lifted one of his claws and touched
a spring in the wall. Instantly a pair of large
doors flew open in the middle, revealing to Griselda
the prettiest and most curious sight she had ever
seen.
A flight of wide shallow steps led down from this
doorway into a long, long avenue bordered by stiffly
growing trees, from the branches of which hung
innumerable lamps of every colour, making a
perfect network of brilliance as far as the eye
could reach.
" Oh, how lovely ! " cried Griselda, clapping her
hands. "It'll be like walking along a rainbow.
Cuckoo, come quick."
" Stop," said the cuckoo ; " we've a good way to
go. There's no need to walk. Palanquin ! "
He flapped his wings, and instantly a palanquin
THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
appeared at the foot of the steps. It was made
of carved ivory, and borne by four Chinese-looking
figures "with pigtails and bright-coloured jackets.
A feeling came over Griselda that she was dream-
ing, or else that she had seen this palanquin before.
She hesitated. Suddenly she gave a little jump
of satisfaction.
" I know," she exclaimed. " It's exactly like the
one that stands under a glass shade on Lady
Lavander's drawing-room mantelpiece. I wonder
if it is the very one ? Fancy me being able to get
into it ! "
She looked at the four bearers. Instantly they
all nodded.
" What do they mean ? " asked Griselda, turning
to the cuckoo.
"Get in," he replied.
" Yes, I'm just going to get in," she said ; " but
what do they mean when they nod at me like
that ? "
iv.] COUNTRY OF TEE NODDING MANDARINS. 77
" They mean, of course, what I tell you — ' Get
in,' " said the cuckoo.
"Why don't they say so, then?" persisted
Griselda, getting in, however, as she spoke.
" Griselda, you have a very great " hegan
the cuckoo, but Griselda interrupted him.
"Cuckoo," she exclaimed, "if you say that
again, I'll jump out of the palanquin and run away
home to bed. Of course I've a great deal to learn
— that's why I like to ask questions about every-
thing I see. Now, tell me where we are going."
" In the first place," said the cuckoo, " are you
comfortable ? "
"Very," said Griselda, settling herself down
among the cushions.
It was a change from the cuckoo's boudoir.
There were no chairs or seats, only a number
of very, very soft cushions covered with green silk.
There were green silk curtains all round, too, which
you could draw or not as you pleased, just by
78 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [ciiaf.
touching a spring. Griselda stroked the silk
gently. It was not "fruzzley" silk, if you know
what that means; it did not make you feel 'as if
your nails wanted cutting, or as if all the rough
places on your skin were being rubbed up the
wrong way ; its softness was like that of a rose or
pansy petal.
"What nice silk!" said Griselda. "I'd like a
dress of it. I never noticed that the palanquin
was lined so nicely," she continued, " for I suppose
it is the one from Lady Lavander's mantelpiece ?
There couldn't be two so exactly like each other."
The cuckoo gave a sort of whistle.
"What a goose you are, my dear ! " he exclaimed.
"Excuse me," he continued, seeing that Griselda
looked rather offended; "I didn't mean to hurt
your feelings, but you won't let me say the other-
thing, you know. The palanquin from Lady
Lavander's ! I should think not. You might as
well mistake one of those horrible paper roses that
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 79
Dorcas sticks in her vases for one of your aunt's
Gloires de Dijon ! The palanquin from Lady
Lavender's — a clumsy human imitation not worth
looking at ! "
"I didn't know," said Griselda humbly. "Do
they make such beautiful things in Mandarin
Land?"
" Of course," said the cuckoo.
Griselda sat silent for a minute or two, but
very soon she recovered her spirits.
"Will you please tell me where we are going?"
she asked again.
"You'll see directly," said the cuckoo; "not
that I mind telling you. There's to be a grand
reception at one of the palaces to-night. I thought
you'd like to assist at it. It'll give you some
idea of what a palace is like. By-the-by, can you
dance?"
" A little," replied Griselda.
"Ah, well, I dare say you will manage. I've
80 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
ordered a court dress for you. It will be all ready
when we get there."
" Thank you," said Griselda.
In a minute or two the palanquin stopped. The
cuckoo got out, and Griselda followed him.
She found that they were at the entrance to a
very much grander palace than the one in her
aunt's saloon. The steps leading up to the door
were very wide and shallow, and covered with a
gold embroidered carpet, which looked as if it
would be prickly to her bare feet, but which, on
the contrary, when she trod upon it, felt softer
than the softest moss. She could see very little
besides the carpet, for at each side of the steps
stood rows and rows of mandarins, all something
like, but a great deal grander than, the pair outside
ner aunt's cabinet ; and as the cuckoo hopped and
Griselda walked up the staircase, they all, in turn,
row by row, began solemnly to nod. It gave them
the look of a field of very high grass, through
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 81
which, any one passing, leaves for the moment a
trail, till all the heads bob up again into their places.
" "What do they mean ? " whispered Griselda.
" It's a royal salute," said the cuckoo.
"A salute!" said Griselda, "I thought that
meant kissing or guns."
" Hush ! " said the cuckoo, for by this time
they had arrived at the top of the staircase ; " you
must be dressed now."
Two mandariny-looking young ladies, with por-
celain faces and three-cornered head-dresses,
stepped forward and led Griselda into a small
ante-room, where lay waiting for her the most
magnificent dress you ever saw. But how do you
think they dressed her? It was all by nodding.
They nodded to the blue and silver embroidered
jacket, and in a moment it had fitted itself on to
her. They nodded to the splendid scarlet satin
skirt, made very short in front and very long
behind, and before Griselda knew where she was,
G
82 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [cuaf.
it was adjusted quite correctly. They nodded to
the head-dress, and the sashes, and the necklaces
and bracelets, and forthwith they all arranged
themselves. Last of all, they nodded to the
dearest, sweetest little pair of high-heeled shoes
imaginable — all silver, and blue, and gold, and
scarlet, and everything mixed up together, only
they were rather a stumpy shape about the toes '
and Griselda's bare feet were encased in them, and,
to her surprise, quite comfortably so.
"They don't hurt me a bit," she said aloud;
"yet they didn't look the least the shape of my
foot."
But her attendants only nodded ; and turning
round, she saw the cuckoo waiting for her. He
did not speak either, rather to her annoyance, but
gravely led the way through one grand room after
another to the grandest of all, where the entertain-
ment was evidently just about to begin. And
everywhere there were mandarins, rows and rows,
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 83
who all set to work nodding as fast as Griselda
appeared. She began to be rather tired of royal
salutes, and was glad when, at last, in profound
silence, the procession, consisting of the cuckoo
and herself, and about half a dozen " mandarins,"
came to a halt before a kind of dais, or raised seat,
at the end of the hall.
Upon this dais stood a chair — a throne of some
kind, Griselda supposed it to be — and upon this
was seated the grandest and gravest personage she
had yet seen.
" Is he the king of the mandarins ? " she
whispered. But the cuckoo did not reply ; and
before she had time to repeat the question, the
very grand and grave person got down from his
seat, and coming towards her, offered her his hand,
at the same time nodding — first once, then two or
three times together, then once again. Griselda
seemed to know what he meant. He was asking
her to dance.
84 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" Thank you," she said. " I can't dance very
well, but perhaps you won't mind."
The king, if that was his title, took not the
slightest notice of her reply, but nodded again —
once, then two or three times together, then once
alone, just as before. Griselda did not know what
to do, when suddenly she felt something poking
her head. It was the cuckoo — he had lifted his
claw, and was tapping her head to make her nod.
So she nodded — once, twice together, then once —
that appeared to be enough. The king nodded once
again; an invisible band suddenly struck up the
loveliest music, and off they set to the places of
honour reserved for them in the centre of the
room, where all the mandarins were assembling.
What a dance that was ! It began like a minuet
and ended something like the hay-makers.
Griselda had not the least idea what the figures or
steps were, but it did not matter. If she did not
know, her shoes or something about her did ; for
iv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 85
she got on famously. The music was lovely — " so
the mandarins can't be deaf, though they are
dumb," thought Griselda, "which is one good
thing about them." The king seemed to enjoy it
as much as she did, though he never smiled or
laughed ; any one could have seen he liked it by
the way he whirled and twirled himself about.
And between the figures, when they stopped to rest
for a little, Griselda got on very well too. There
was no conversation, or rather, if there was, it was
ail nodding.
So Griselda nodded too, and though she did not
know what her nods meant, the king seemed to
understand and be quite pleased; and when they
had nodded enough, the music struck up again, anu
off they set, harder than before.
And every now and then tiny little mandariny
boys appeared with trays filled with the most
delicious fruits and sweetmeats. Griselda was not
a greedy child, but for once in her life she really
86 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
did feel rather so. I cannot possibly describe these
delicious things ; just think of whatever in all your
life was the most "lovely" thing you ever eat, and
you may be sure they tasted like that. Only the
cuckoo would not eat any, which rather distressed
Griselda. He walked about among the dancers,
apparently quite at home ; and the mandarins did
not seem at all surprised to see him, though he did
look rather odd, being nearly, if not quite, as big
as any of them. Griselda hoped he was enjoying
himself, considering that she had to thank him for
all the fun she was having, but she felt a little
conscience-stricken when she saw that he wouldn't
eat anything.
" Cuckoo," she whispered ; she dared not talk
out loud — it would have seemed so remarkable, you
see. " Cuckoo," she said, very, very softly, "I wish
you would eat something. You'll be so tired and
hungry."
" No, thank you," said the cuckoo ; and you
rv.] COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS. 87
can't think how pleased Griselda was at having
succeeded in making him speak. " It isn't my
way. I hope yon are enjoying yourself? "
" Oh, very much/' said Griselda. "I "
"Hush!" said the cuckoo; and looking up,
Griselda saw a number of mandarins, in a sort of
procession, coming their way.
When they got up to the cuckoo they set to work
nodding, two or three at a time, more energetically
than usual. "When they stopped, the cuckoo
nodded in return, and then hopped off towards the
middle of the room.
" They're very fond of good music, you see," he
whispered as he passed Griselda ; " and they don't
often <?et it."
88 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
CHAPTEE V.
PICTURES.
" And she is always "beautiful,
And always is eighteen ! "
When he got to the middle of the room the cuckoo
cleared his throat, flapped his wings, and began to
sing. Griselda was quite astonished. She had
had no idea that her friend was so accomplished.
It wasn't "cuckooing" at all; it was real singing,
like that of the nightingale or the thrush, or like
something prettier than either. It made Griselda
think of woods in summer, and of tinkling brooks
flowing through them, with the pretty brown
pebbles sparkling up through the water; and then it
made her think of something sad — she didn't know
v.] PICTURES. 89
what ; perhaps it was of the babes in the wood and
the robins covering them up with leaves — and then
again, in a moment, it sounded as if all the merry
elves and sprites that ever were heard of had
escaped from fairyland, and were rolling over and
over with peals of rollicking laughter. And at
last, all of a sudden, the song came to an end.
" Cuckoo ! cuckoo ! cuckoo ! " rang out three
times, clear and shrill. The cuckoo flapped his
wings, made a bow to the mandarins, and retired
to his old corner.
There was no buzz of talk, as is usual after a
performance has come to a close, but there was
a great buzz of nodding, and Griselda, wishing
to give the cuckoo as much praise as she could,
nodded as hard as any of them. The cucko
really looked quite shy at receiving so much
applause. But in a minute or two the music
struck up and the dancing began again — one, two,
three : it seemed a sort of mazurka this time,
90 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
which suited the mandarins very well, as it gave
them a chance of nodding to mark the time.
Griselda had once learnt the mazurka, so she
got on even better than before — only she would
have liked it more if her shoes had had sharper
toes ; they looked so stumpy when she tried to
point them. All the same, it was very good fun,
and she was not too well pleased when she sud-
denly felt the little sharp tap of the cuckoo on
her head, and heard him whisper —
" Griselda, it's time to go."
"Oh dear, why?" she asked. "I'm not a bit
tired. Why need we go yet ? "
"Obeying orders," said the cuckoo; and after
that, Griselda dared not say another word. It was
very nearly as bad as being told she had a great
deal to learn.
"Must I say good-bye to the king and all the
people ? " she inquired ; but before the cuckoo
had time to answer, she gave a little squeal.
v.] PICTURES. 91
" Oh, cuckoo," she cried, " you've trod on my
foot."
" I beg your pardon," said the cuckoo.
" I must take off my shoe ; it does so hurt," she
went on.
" Take it off, then," said the cuckoo.
Griselda stooped to take off her shoe. " Are we
going home in the pal ? " she began to say; but
she never finished the sentence, for just as she had
got her shoe off she felt the cuckoo throw some-
thing round her. It was the feather mantle.
And Griselda knew nothing more till she opened
her eyes the next morning, and saw the first early
rays of sunshine peeping in through the chinks
of the closed shutters of her little bedroom.
She rubbed her eyes, and sat up in bed. Could
it have been a dream ?
" What could have made me fall asleep so all of
a sudden?" she thought. "I wasn't the least
sleepy at the mandarins' ball. What fun it was I
92 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
I believe that cuckoo made me fall asleep on
purpose to make me fancy it was a dream. Was it
a dream? "
She began to feel confused and doubtful, when
suddenly she felt something hurting her arm, like
a little lump in the bed. She felt with her hand
to see if she could smooth it away, and drew out —
one of the shoes belonging to her court dress ! The
very one she had held in her hand at the moment
the cuckoo spirited her home again to bed.
"Ah, Mr. Cuckoo ! " she exclaimed, " you meant
to play me a trick, but you haven't succeeded, you
see."
She jumped out of bed and unfastened one of the
window-shutters, then jumped in again to admire
the little shoe in comfort. It was even prettier
than she had thought it at the ball. She held it
up and looked at it. It was about the size of the
first joint of her little finger. " To think that
I should have been dancing with you on last
v.] PICTURES. 9a
night ! " she said to the shoe. " And yet the
cuckoo says being big or little is all a matter of
fancy. I wonder what he'll think of to amuse me
next?"
She was still holding up the shoe and admiring
it when Dorcas came with the hot water.
"Look, Dorcas," she said.
" Bless me, it's one of the shoes off the Chinese
dolls in the saloon," exclaimed the old servant.
" How ever did you get that, missie ? Your aunts
wouldn't be pleased."
"It just isn't one of the Chinese dolls' shoes,
and if you don't believe me, you can go and look
for yourself," said Griselda. " It's my very own
shoe, and it was given me to my own self."
Dorcas looked at her curiously, but said no
more, only as she was going out of the room
Griselda heard her saying something about " so
very like Miss Sybilla."
"I wonder what e Miss Sybilla' teas like?"
94 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
thought Griselda. "I have a good mind to ask
the cuckoo. He seems to have known her very
well."
It was not for some days that Griselda had a
chance of asking the cuckoo anything. She saw
and heard nothing of him — nothing, that is to say,
but his regular appearance to tell the hours as usual.
" I suppose," thought Griselda, " he thinks the
mandarins' ball was fun enough to last me a good
while. It really was very good-natured of him to
take me to it, so I mustn't grumble."
A few days after this poor Griselda caught cold.
It was not a very bad cold, I must confess, but
her aunts made rather a fuss about it. They
wanted her to stay in bed, but to this Griselda
so much objected that they did not insist upon it.
" It would be so dull," she said piteously.
" Please let me stay in the ante-room, for all my
things are there ; and, then, there's the cuckoo."
Aunt Grizzel smiled at this, and Griselda got
v.] PICTURES. 95
her way. But even in the ante-room it was rather
dull. Miss Grizzel and Miss Tabitha were obliged
to go out, to drive all the way to Merrybrow Hall,
as Lady Lavander sent a messenger to say that
she had an attack of influenza, and wished to see
her friends at once.
Miss Tabitha began to cry — she was so tender-
hearted.
" Troubles never come singly," said Miss Grizzel,
by way of consolation.
"No, indeed, they never come singly," said
Miss Tabitha, shaking her head and wiping her
eyes.
So off they set ; and Griselda, in her armchair
by the ante-room fire, with some queer little old-
fashioned books of her aunts', which she had
already read more than a dozen times, beside her
by way of amusement, felt that there was one
comfort in her troubles — she had escaped the long
weary drive to her godmother's.
96 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
But it was very dull. It got duller and duller.
Griselda curled herself up in her chair, and wished
she could go to sleep, though feeling quite sure
she couldn't, for she had stayed in bed much later
than usual this morning, and had been obliged
to spend the time in sleeping, for want of anything
better to do.
She looked up at the clock.
"I don't know even what to wish for," she said
to herself. " I don't feel the least inclined to play
at anything, and I shouldn't care to go to the
mandarins again. Oh, cuckoo, cuckoo, I am so
dull; couldn't you think of anything to amuse
me?"
It was not near " any o'clock." But after
waiting a minute or two, it seemed to Griselda
that she heard the soft sound of " coming " that
always preceded the cuckoo's appearance. She
was right. In another moment she heard his
usual greeting, " Cuckoo, cuckoo ! "
v.] PICTURES. 97
"Oh, cuckoo!" she exclaimed, "I am so glad
you have come at last. I am so dull, and it has
nothing to do with lessons this time. It's that I've
got such a bad cold, and my head's aching, and
I'm so tired of reading, all by myself."
" What would you like to do?" said the cuckoo.
" You don't want to go to see the mandarins
again ? "
" Oh no ; I couldn't dance."
" Or the mermaids down under the sea ? "
" Oh, dear, no," said Griselda, with a little
shiver, " it would be far too cold. I would just
like to stay where I am, if some one would tell mo
stories. I'm not even sure that I could listen to
stories. What could you do to amuse me,
cuckoo ? "
"Would you like to see some pictures?" said
the cuckoo. " I could show you pictures without
your taking any trouble."
"Oh yes, that would be beautiful," cried
h
98 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Griselda. " What pictures will you show me ?
Oh, I know. I would like to see the place where
you were bom — where that very, very clever man
made you and the clock, I mean."
"Your great-great-grandfather," said the cuckoo.
» Very well. Now, Griselda, shut your eyes. First
of all, I am going to sing."
Griselda shut her eyes, and the cuckoo began his
song. It was something like what he had sung at
the mandarins' palace, only even more beautiful.
It was so soft and dreamy, Griselda felt as if she
could have sat there for ever, listening to it.
The first notes were low and murmuring. Again
they made Griselda think of little rippling brooks
in summer, and now and then there came a sort of
hum as of insects buzzing in the warm sunshine
near. This humming gradually increased, till at
last Griselda was conscious of nothing more —
everything seemed to be humming, herself too, till
at last she fell asleep.
v.] PICTUBES. 99
When she opened her eyes, the ante-room and
everything in it, except the arm-chair on which she
was still curled up, had disappeared — melted away
into a misty cloud all round her, which in turn
gradually faded, till before her she saw a scene
quite new and strange. It was the first of the
cuckoo's " pictures."
An old, quaint room, with a high, carved
mantelpiece, and a bright fire sparkling in the
grate. It was not a pretty room — it had more the
look of a workshop of some kind; but it was
curious and interesting. All round, the walls were
hung with clocks and strange mechanical toys.
There was a fiddler slowly fiddling, a gentleman
and lady gravely dancing a minuet, a little man
drawing up water in a bucket out of a glass vase in
which gold fish were swimming about — all sorts of
queer figures; and the clocks were even queerer.
There was one intended to represent the sun, moon,
and planets, with one face for the sun and another
100 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
for the moon, and gold and silver stars slowly
circling round them ; there was another clock with
a tiny trumpeter perched on a ledge above the face,
who blew a horn for the hours. I cannot tell you
half the strange and wonderful things there were.
Griselda was so interested in looking at all these
queer machines, that she did not for some time
observe the occupant of the room. And no wonder;
he was sitting in front of a little table, so perfectly
still, much more still than the un-living figures
around him. He was examining, with a magni-
fying glass, some small object he held in his hand,
so closely and intently that Griselda, forgetting she
was only looking at a " picture," almost held her
breath for fear she should disturb him. He was a
very old man, his coat was worn and threadbare in
several places, looking as if he spent a great part
of his life in one position. Yet he did not look
•poor, and his face, when at last he lifted it, was
mild and intelligent and very earnest.
v.] PICTURES. 101
While Griselda was watching him closely there
came a soft tap at the door, and a little girl
danced into the room. The dearest little girl you
ever saw, and so funnily dressed ! Her thick
brown hair, rather lighter than Griselda's, was
tied in two long plaits down her back. She had a
short red skirt with silver braid round the bottom,
and a white chemisette with beautiful lace at the
throat and wrists, and over that again a black
velvet bodice, also trimmed with silver. And she
had a great many trinkets, necklaces, and brace-
lets, and ear-rings, and a sort of little silver
coronet ; no, it was not like a coronet, it was a
band with a square piece of silver fastened so as to
stand up at each side of her head something like
a horse's blinkers, only they were not placed over
her eyes.
She made quite a jingle as she came into the
room, and the old man looked up with a smile of
pleasure.
102 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"Well, my darling, and are you all ready for
jow fete?" he said; and though the language in
which he spoke was quite strange to Griselda, she
understood his meaning perfectly well.
"Yes, dear grandfather; and isn't my dress
lovely ?" said the child. " I should be so happy if
only you were coming too, and would get yourself
a beautiful velvet coat like Mynheer van Huyten."
The old man shook his head.
"I have no time for such things, my darling,"
he replied; "and besides, I am too old. I must
work — work hard to make money for my pet when
I am gone, that she may not be dependent on the
bounty of those English sisters."
"But I won't care for money when you are
gone, grandfather," said the child, her eyes filling
with tears. " I would rather just go on living in
this little house, and I am sure the neighbours
would give me something to eat, and then I could
hear all your clocks ticking, and think of you. I
v.] PICTURES. 103
don't want yon to sell all your wonderful things for
money for me, grandfather. They would remind
me of you, and money wouldn't."
" Not all, Sybilla, not all," said the old man.
" The best of all, the chef-cVceuvre of my life,
shall not be sold. It shall be yours, and you will
have in your possession a clock that crowned heads
might seek in vain to purchase."
His dim old eyes brightened, and for a moment
he sat erect and strong.
" Do you mean the cuckoo clock ? " said Sybilla,
in a low voice.
"Yes, my darling, the cuckoo clock, the crown-
ing work of my life — a clock that shall last long
after I, and perhaps thou, my- pretty child, are
crumbling into dust; a clock that shall last to
tell my great-grandchildren to many generations
that' the old Dutch mechanic was not altogether to
be despised."
Sybilla sprang into his arms.
104 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
" You are not to talk like that, little grand-
father," she said. " I shall teach my children and
my grandchildren to be so proud of you — oh, so
proud! — as proud as I am of you, little grand-
father."
" Gently, my darling," said the old man, as he
placed carefully on the table the delicate piece of
mechanism he held in his hand, and tenderly
embraced the child. "Kiss me once again, my
pet, and then thou must go ; thy little friends will
be waiting."
*****
As he said these words the mist slowly gathered
again before Griselda's eyes — the first of the
cuckoo's pictures faded from her sight.
"When she looked again the scene was changed,
but this time it was not a strange one, though
Griselda had gazed at it for some moments before
v.] PICTURES. 105
she recognized it. It was the great saloon, but it
looked very different from what she had ever seen
it. Forty years or so make a difference in rooms
as well as in people !
The faded yellow damask hangings were rich
and brilliant. There were bouquets of lovely
flowers arranged about the tables ; wax lights were
sending out their brightness in every direction, and
the room was filled with ladies and gentlemen in
gay attire.
Among them, after a time, Griselda remarked two
ladies, no longer very young, but still handsome
and stately, and something whispered to her that
they were her two aunts, Miss Grizzel and Miss
Tabitha.
" Poor aunts ! " she said softly to herself ; " how
old they have grown since then."
But she did not long look at them ; her attention
was attracted by a much younger lady — a mere
girl she seemed, but oh, so sweet and pretty ! She
106 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
was dancing with a gentleman whose eyes looked
as if they saw no one else, and she herself seemed
brimming over with youth and happiness. Her
very steps had joy in them.
"Well, Griselda," whispered a voice, which she
knew was the cuckoo's ; "so you don't like to be
told you are like your grandmother, eh ? "
Griselda turned round sharply to look for the
speaker, but he was not to be seen. And when she
turned again, the picture of the great saloon had
faded away.
* * # * *
One more picture.
Griselda looked again. She saw before her a
country road in full summer time; the sun was
shining, the birds were singing, the trees covered
with their bright green leaves — everything ap-
peared happy and joyful. But at last in the
distance she saw, slowly approaching, a group of a
few people, all walking together, carrying in their
PICTURES. 101
centre something long and narrow, which, though
the black cloth covering it was almost hidden by
the white flowers with which it was thickly strewn,
Griselda knew to be a coffin.
It was a funeral procession, and in the place of
chief mourner, with pale, set face, walked the same
young man whom Griselda had last seen dancing
with the girl Sybilla in the great saloon.
The sad group passed slowly out of sight; but
as it disappeared there fell upon the ear the sounds
of sweet music, lovelier far than she had heard
before — lovelier than the magic cuckoo's most
lovely songs — and somehow, in the music, it
seemed to the child's fancy there were mingled the
soft strains of a woman's voice.
"It is Sybilla singing," thought Griselda
dreamily, and with that she fell asleep again.
When she woke she was in the arm-chair by the
108 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
ante-room fire, everything around her looking just
as usual, the cuckoo clock ticking away calmly and
regularly. Had it been a dream only ? Griselda
could not make up her mind.
'•'But I don't see that it matters if it was," she
said to herself. "If it was a dream, the cuckoo
sent it to me all the same, and I thank you very
much indeed, cuckoo," she went on, looking up at
the clock. " The last picture was rather sad,
but still it was very nice to see it, and I thank you
very much, and I'll never say again that I don't
like to be told I'm like my dear pretty grand-
mother."
The cuckoo took no notice of what she said, but
Griselda did not mind. She was getting used to
his "ways."
" I expect he hears me quite well," she thought ;
"and even if he doesn't, it's only civil to try
to thank him."
She sat still contentedly enough, thinking over
;
MY AVN'TS MV
^T HAVE COME BACK ! " [Page I°9-
v.] PICTURES. 10&
what she had seen, and trying to make more
" pictures" for herself in the fire. Then there
came faintly to her ears the sound of carriage
wheels, opening and shutting of doors, a little
bustle of arrival.
"My aunts must have come back," thought
Griselda ; and so it was. In a few minutes Miss
Grizzel, closely followed by Miss Tabitha, appeared
at the ante-room door.
"Well, my love," said Miss Grizzel anxiously,
" and how are you ? Has the time seemed very
long while we were away ? "
" Oh no, thank you, Aunt Grizzel," replied
Griselda, "not at all. I've been quite happy, and
my cold's ever so much better, and my headache's
quite gone."
"Come, that is good news," said Miss Grizzel.
" Not. that I'm exactly surprised" she continued,
turning to Miss Tabitha, "for there really is
nothing like tansy tea for a feverish cold."
110 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" Nothing," agreed Miss Tabitha; " there really
is nothing like it."
"Aunt Grizzel," said Griselda, after a few
moments' silence, "was my grandmother quite
young when she died?"
"Yes, my love, very young," replied Miss
Grizzel -with a change in her voice.
"And was her husband very sorry?" pursued
Griselda.
"Heart-broken," said Miss Grizzel. "He did
not live long after, and then you know, my dear,
your father was sent to us to take care of. And
now he has sent you — the third generation of
young creatures confided to our care."
"Yes," said Griselda. " My grandmother died
in the summer, when all the flowers were out ; and
she was buried in a pretty country place, wasn't
she ? "
" Yes," said Miss Grizzel, looking rather be-
wildered.
v.] PICTURES. Ill
"And when she was a little girl she lived with
her grandfather, the old Dutch mechanic," con-
tinued Griselda, unconsciously using the very
words she had heard in her vision. "He was a
nice old man; and how clever of him to have
made the cuckoo clock, and such lots of other
pretty, wonderful things. I don't wonder little
Sybilla loved him ; he was so good to her. But,
oh, Aunt Grizzel, how pretty she was when she
was a young lady ! That time that she danced
with my grandfather in the great saloon. And
how very nice you and Aunt Tabitha looked then,
too."
Miss Grizzel held her very breath in astonish-
ment; and no doubt if Miss Tabitha had known
she was doing so, she would have held hers too.
But Griselda lay still, gazing at the fire, quite
unconscious of her aunt's surprise.
"Your papa told you all these old stories, I
suppose, my dear," said Miss Grizzel at last.
112 THE CUCKOO CLOCK.
" Oh no," said Griselda dreamily. " Papa never
told me anything like that. Dorcas told me a very
little, I think; at least, she made me want to know,
and I asked the cuckoo, and then, you see,* he
showed me it all. It was so pretty."
Miss Grizzel glanced at her sister.
" Tabitha, my dear," she said in a low voice,
" do you hear ? "
And Miss Tabitha, who really was not very deaf
when she set herself to hear, nodded in awestruck
silence.
" Tabitha," continued Miss Grizzel in the same
tone, "it is wonderful ! Ah, yes, how true it is,
Tabitha, that 'there are more things in heaven
and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy ' "
(for Miss Grizzel was a well-read old lady, you
see) ; " and from the very first, Tabitha, we always
had a feeling that the child was strangely like
Sybilla."
" Strangely like Sybilla," echoed Miss Tabitha.
v.] PICTURES. 113
"May she grow up as good, if not quite as
beautiful — that we could scarcely expect ; and may
she be longer spared to those that love her," added
Miss Grizzel, bending over Griselda, while two or
three tears slowly trickled down her aged cheeks.
" See, Tabitha, the dear child is fast asleep. How
sweet she looks ! I trust by to-morrow morning
she will be quite herself again : her cold is so much
better.
114 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
CHAPTEK VI.
RUBBED THE WRONG WAY.
" For now and then there comes a day
When everything goes wrong."
Griselda's cold was much better by " to-morrow
morning." In fact, I might almost say it was quite
well.
But Griselda herself did not feel quite well, and
saying this reminds me that it is hardly sense to
speak of'' a cold being better or well — for a cold's
being " well " means that it is not there at all, out
of' existence,, in short, and- if a thing is out of
existence how can we say anything about it?
Children, I feel quite in a hobble — I cannot get my
mind straight about it — please think it over and
vi.] RUBBED THE WBONG WAY. 115
give me your opinion. In the meantime, I will go
on about Griselda.
She felt just a little ill — a sort of feeling that
sometimes is rather nice, sometimes " very ex-
tremely " much the reverse ! She felt in the
humour for being petted, and having beef-tea, and
jelly, and sponge cake with her tea, and for a day or
two this was all very well. She was petted, and
she had lots of beef-tea, and jelly, and grapes, and
sponge cakes, and everything nice, for her aunts,
as you must have seen by this time, were really
very, very kind to her in every way in which they
understood how to be so.
But after a few days of the continued petting,
and the beef-tea and the jelly and all the rest of it,
it occurred to Miss Grizzel, who had a good large
bump of "common sense," that it might be possible
to overdo this sort of thing.
" Tabitha," she said to her sister, when they were
sitting together in the evening after Griselda had
116 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
gone to bed, "Tabitha, my dear, I think the
child is quite well again now. It seems to me it
would be well to send a note to good Mr. Knee-
breeches, to say that she will be able to resume her
studies the day after to-morrow."
"The day after to-morrow," repeated Miss
Tabitha. " The day after to-morrow — to say that
she will be able to resume her studies the day after
to-morrow — oh yes, certainly. It would be very
well to send a note to good Mr. Kneebreeches, my
dear Grizzel."
" I thought you would agree with me," said Miss
Grizzel, with a sigh of relief (as if poor Miss
Tabitha during all the last half-century had ever
ventured to do anything else), getting up to fetch
her writing materials as she spoke. "It is such
a satisfaction to consult together about what we
do. I was only a little afraid of being hard upon
the child, but as you agree with me, I have no
longer any misgiving."
vi.] RUBBED THE WRONG WAY. 117
"Any misgiving, oh dear, no!" said Miss
Tabitha. " You have no reason for any misgiving,
I am sure, my dear Grizzel."
So the note was written and despatched, and the
next morning when, about twelve o'clock, Griselda
made her appearance in the little drawing-room
where her aunts usually sat, looking, it must be
confessed, very plump and rosy for an invalid,
Miss Grizzel broached the subject.
"I have written to request Mr. Kneebreeches
to resume his instructions to-morrow," she said
quietly. " I think you are quite well again now,
so Dorcas must wake you at your usual hour."
Griselda had been settling herself comfortably
on a corner of the sofa. She had got a nice book
to read, which her father, hearing of her illness,
had sent her by post, and she was looking forward
to the tempting plateful of jelly which Dorcas had
brought her for luncheon every day since she had
been ill. Altogether, she was feeling very "lazy-
118 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
easy" and contented. Her aunt's announcement
felt like a sudden downpour of cold water, or rush
of east wind. She sat straight up in her sofa, and
exclaimed in a tone of great annoyance —
" Oh, Aunt Grizzel ! "
" Well, my dear ? " said Miss Grizzel, placidly.
"I ivish you wouldn't make me begin lessons
again just yet. I hioiv they'll make my head ache
again, and Mr. Ivneebreeches will be so cross. I
know he will, and he is so horrid when he is cross. "
" Hush ! " said Miss Grizzel, holding up her
hand in a way that reminded Griselda of the
cuckoo's favourite "obeying orders." Just then,
too, in the distance the ante-room clock struck
twelve. " Cuckoo ! cuckoo ! cuckoo ! " on it went.
Griselda could have stamped with irritation, but
somehow, in spite of herself, she felt compelled to
say nothing. She muttered some not very pretty
words, coiled herself round on the sofa, opened her
book, and began to read.
vi.] RUBBED THE WRONG WAY. 119
But it was not as interesting as she had ex-
pected. She had not read many pages before she
began to yawn, and she was delighted to be inter-
rupted by Dorcas and the jelly.
But the jelly was not as nice as she had expected,
either. She tasted it, and thought it was too
sweet ; and when she tasted it again, it seemed
too strong of cinnamon; and the third taste seemed
too strong of everything. She laid down her
spoon, and looked about her discontentedly.
"What is the matter, my dear?" said Miss
Grizzel. " Is the jelly:- -not to your liking ? "
"I don't know," saidGriselda shortly. She ate
a few, spoonfuls, and then took up her book again.
Miss Grizzel said nothing more, but to herself
she -'thought that Mr. Kneebreeches had not been
recalled any too soon.
All day long it was much the same. Nothing
seemed to come right to Griselda. It was a dull,
cold day, what is called " a black frost ; " not a
120 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
bright, clear, pretty, cold day, but trie sort of frost
that really makes the world seem dead — makes it
almost impossible to believe that there will ever
be warmth and sound and " growing-ness " again.
Late in the afternoon Griselda crept up to the
ante-room, and sat down by the window. Outside
it was nearly dark, and inside it was not much
more cheerful — for the fire was nearly out, and
no lamps were lighted ; only the cuckoo clock went
on tick-ticking briskly as usual.
" I hate winter," said Griselda, pressing her
cold little face against the colder window-pane,
" I hate winter, and I hate lessons. I would give
up being a person in a minute if I might be a — a —
what would I best like to be ? Oh yes, I know —
a butterfly. Butterflies never see winter, and they
certainly never have any lessons or any kind of
work to do. I hate must-mg to do anything."
" Cuckoo," rang out suddenly above her head.
It was only four o'clock striking, and as soon as
vi.] RUBBED THE WRONG WAY. 121
he had told it the cuckoo was back behind his doors
again in an instant, just as usual. There was
nothing for Griselda to feel offended at, but some-
how she got quite angry.
" I don't care what you think, cuckoo ! " she
exclaimed defiantly. "I know you came out on
purpose just now, but I don't care. I do hate
winter, and I do hate lessons, and I do think it
would be nicer to be a butterfly than a little girl."
In her secret heart I fancy she was half in hopes
that the cuckoo would come out again, and talk
things over with her. Even if he were to scold
her, she felt that it would be better than sitting
there alone with nobody to speak to, which was
very dull work indeed. At the bottom of her
conscience there lurked the knowledge that what
she slwidd be doing was to be looking over
her last lessons with Mr. Kneebreeches, and re-
freshing her memory for the next day ; but, alas !
knowing one's duty is by no means the same
122 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
thing as doing it, and Griselda sat on by the
window doing nothing but grumble and work
herself up into a belief that she was one of the
most-to-be-pitied little girls in all the world. So
that by the time Dorcas came to call her to tea,
I doubt if she had a single pleasant thought or
feeling left in her heart.
Things grew no better after tea, and before long
Griselda asked if she might go to bed. She was
" so tired," she said ; and she certainly looked so,
for ill-huniour and idleness are excellent " tirers,"
and will soon take the roses out of a child's cheeks,
and the brightness out of her eyes. She held up
her face to be kissed by her aunts in a meekly
reproachful way, wrhich made the old ladies -feel
quite uncomfortable.
" I am by no means sure that I have done right
in recalling Mr. Kneebreeches so soon, Sister
Tabitha," remarked Miss Grizzel, uneasily, when
Griselda Md left the room. But Miss Tabitha
vi.] BUB BED THE WRONG WAY. 123
was busy counting her stitches, and did not give
fall attention to Miss Grizzel's observation, so she
just repeated placidly, " Oh yes, Sister Grizzel, you
may be sure you have done right in recalling
Mr. Kneebreeches."
"I am glad you think so," said Miss Tabitha,
with again a little sigh of relief. "I was only
distressed to see the child looking so white and
tired."
Upstairs Griselda was hurry-scurrying into bed.
There was a lovely fire in her room — fancy that !
"Was she not a poor neglected little creature ? But
even this did not please her. She was too cross to
be pleased with anything ; too cross to wash her
face and hands, or let Dorcas brush her hair out
nicely as usual ; too cross, alas, to say her prayers !
She just huddled into bed, huddling up her mind in
an untidy hurry and confusion, just as she left her
clothes in an untidy heap on the floor. She would
not look into herself, was the truth of it ; she
124 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
shrank from doing so because she knew things had
been going on in that silly little heart of hers in a
most unsatisfactory way all day, and she wanted to
go to sleep and forget all about it.
She did go to sleep, very quickly too. No doubt
she really was tired ; tired with crossness and
doing nothing, and she slept very soundly. When
she woke up she felt so refreshed and rested that
she fancied it must be morning. It was dark, of
course, but that was to be expected in mid-winter,
especially as the shutters were closed.
" I wonder," thought Griselda, "I wonder if it
really is morning. I should like to get up early —
I went so early to bed. I think I'll just jump out
of bed and open a chink of the shutters. I'll see at
once if it's nearly morning, by the look of the sky."
She was up in a minute, feeling her way across
the room to the window, and without much difficulty
she found the hook of the shutters, unfastened it,
and threw one side open. All no, there was no
7i.] BUB BED THE WBONG WAY. 125
sign of morning to be seen. There was moonlight,
but nothing else, and not so very much of that, for
the clouds were hurrying across the " orbed
maiden's " face at such a rate, one after the other,
that the light was more like a number of pale
flashes than the steady, cold shining of most
frosty moonlight nights. There was going to be
a change of weather, and the cloud armies were
collecting together from all quarters ; that was the
real explanation of the hurrying and skurrying
Griselda saw overhead, but this, of course, she did
not understand. She only saw that it looked wild
and stormy, and she shivered a little, partly with
cold, partly with a half-frightened feeling that
she could not have explained.
" I had better go back to bed," she said to her-
self; " but I am not a bit sleepy."
She was just drawing-to the shutter again, when
something caught her eye, and she stopped short in
surprise. A little bird was outside on the window-
126 THE CUCKOO CLOCK, [chap.
sill — a tiny bird crouching in close to the cold
glass. Griselda's kind heart was touched in an
instant. Cold as she was, she pushed back the
shutter again, and drawing a chair forward to the
window, managed to unfasten it — it was not a very
heavy one — and to open it wide enough to slip her
hand gently along to the bird. It did not start or
move.
" Can it be dead? " thought Griselda anxiously.
But no, it was not dead. It let her put her
hand round it and draw it in, and to her delight
she felt that it was soft and warm, and it even
gave a gentle peck on her thumb.
"Poor little bird, how cold you must be," she
said kindly. But, to her amazement, no sooner
was the bird safely inside the room, than it
managed cleverly to escape from her hand. It
fluttered quietly up onto her shoulder, and sang out
in a soft but cheery tone, " Cuckoo, cuckoo — cold,
did you say, Griselda ? Not so very, thank you."
vi.] RUBBED TEE WRONG WAY. 127
Griselda stept back from the window.
"It's you, is it?" she said rather surlily, her
tone seeming to infer that she had taken a great
deal of trouble for nothing.
" Of course it is, and why shouldn't it be ?
You're not generally so sorry to see me. What's
the matter ? "
" Nothing's the matter," replied Griselda, feel-
ing a little ashamed of her want of civility ; " only,
you see, if I had known it was you " She
hesitated.
" You wouldn't have clambered up and hurt
your poor fingers in opening the window if you
had know it was me — is that it, eh ? " said the
cuckoo.
Somehow, when the cuckoo said " eh ? " like
that, Griselda was obliged to tell just what she was
thinking.
" No, I wouldn't have needed to open the win-
dow," she said. " You can get in or out whenevei
128 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
you like ; you're not like a real bird. Of course,
you were just tricking me, sitting out there and
pretending to be a starved robin."
There was a little indignation in her voice, and
she gave her head a toss, which nearly upset the
cuckoo.
" Dear me, dear me ! " exclaimed the cuckoo
" You have a great deal to complain of, Griselda.
Your time and strength must be very valuable for
you to regret so much having wasted a little of
them on me."
Griselda felt her face grow red. What did he
mean ? Did he know how yesterday had been
spent? She said nothing, but she drooped her
head, and one or two tears came slowly creeping
up to her eyes.
" Child ! " said the cuckoo, suddenly changing
his tone, "you are very foolish. Is a kind thought
or action ever wasted? Can your eyes see what
such good seeds grow into? They have wings,
vi.] RUBBED THE WRONG WAY. 129
Griselda — kindnesses have wings and roots, re-
member that — wings that never droop, and roots
that never die. What do you think I came and
sat outside your window for ? "
" Cuckoo," said Griselda humbly, " I am very
sorry."
"Very well," said the cuckoo, " we'll leave it for
the present. I have something else to see about.
Are you cold, Griselda ? "
" Very" she replied. " I would very much like
to go back to bed, cuckoo, if you please; and
there's plenty of room for you too, if you'd like to
come in and get warm."
" There are other ways of getting warm besides
going to bed," said the cuckoo. " A nice brisk walk,
for instance. I was going to ask you to come out
into the garden with me."
Griselda almost screamed.
" Out into the garden ! Oh, cuckoo ! " she ex-
claimed, " how can you think of such a thing ?
K
130 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
Such a freezing cold night. Oh no, indeed, cuckoo,
I couldn't possibly."
- ' Very well, Griselda," said the cuckoo ; " if you
haven't yet learnt to trust me, there's no more to
be said. Good-night."
He flapped his wings, cried out " Cuckoo " once
only, flew across the room, and almost before
Griselda understood what he was doing, had dis-
appeared.
She hurried after him, stumbling against the
furniture in her haste, and by the uncertain light.
The door was not open, but the cuckoo had got
through it — " by the keyhole, I dare say," thought
Griselda ; " he can ' scrooge ' himself up any
way" — for a faint "Cuckoo" was to be heard on
its other side. In a moment Griselda had opened
it, and was speeding down the long passage in the
dark, guided only by the voice from time to time
heard before her, " Cuckoo, cuckoo."
She forgot all about the cold, or rather, she did
vi.] RUBBED TEE WRONG WAT. 131
not feel it, though the floor was of uncarpeted old
oak, whose hard, polished surface would have
usually felt like ice to a child's soft, bare feet. It
was a very long passage, and to-night, somehow, it
seemed longer than ever. In fact, Griselda could
have fancied she had been running along it for
half a mile or more, when at last she was brought
to a standstill by finding she could go no further.
Where was she ? She could not imagine ! It
must be a part of the house she had never ex-
plored in the daytime, she decided. In front of
her was a little stair running downwards, and
ending in a doorway. All this Griselda could see
by a bright light that streamed in by the key-
hole and through the chinks round the door — a
light so brilliant that the little girl blinked
her eyes, and for a moment felt quite dazzled and
confused.
"It came so suddenly," she said to herself;
"some one must have lighted a lamp in there all
132 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
*
at once. But it can't be a lamp, it's too bright for
a lamp. It's more like the sun; but how ever
could the sun be shining in a room in the middle
of the night ? What shall I do ? Shall I open
the door and peep in ? "
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," came the answer, soft but
clear, from the other side.
" Can it be a trick of the cuckoo's to get me out
into the garden ? " thought Griselda ; and for the
first time since she had run out of her room a
shiver of cold made her teeth chatter and her skin
feel creepy.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," sounded again, nearer this
time, it seemed to Griselda.
"He's waiting for me. I will trust him," she
said resolutely. " He has always been good and
kind, and it's horrid of me to think he's going to
trick me."
She ran down the little stair, she seized the
handle of the door. It turned easily; the door
vi.] BUB BED THE WRONG WAY. 133
opened — opened, and closed again noiselessly
behind her, and what do you think she saw ?
" Shut your eyes for a minute, Griselda," said
the cuckoo's voice beside her; "the light will
dazzle you at first. Shut them, and I will brush
them with a little daisy dew, to strengthen them."
Griselda did as she was told. She felt the tip of
the cuckoo's softest feather pass gently two or
three times over her eyelids, and a delicious scent
seemed immediately to float before her.
" I didn't know daisies had any scent," she
remarked.
" Perhaps you didn't. You forget, Griselda,
that you have a great "
" Oh, please don't, cuckoo. Please, please don't,
dear cuckoo," she exclaimed, dancing about with
her hands clasped in entreaty, but her eyes still
firmly closed. " Don't say that, and I'll promise
to believe whatever you tell me. And how soon
may I open my eyes, please, cuckoo ? "
134: THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"Turn round slowly, three times. That will
give the dew time to take effect," said the cuckoo,
" Here goes — one — two — three. There, now,"
Griselda opened her eyes.
vn.] B UTTERFL T-LAXD.
CHAPTEE Vn.
BUTTEEPIiY-LAND.
'; I'd be a butterfly."
Geiselda opened her eyes.
What did she see ?
The loveliest, loveliest garden that ever or never
a little girl's eyes saw. As for describing it, I
cannot. I must leave a good deal to your fancy.
It was just a delicious garden. There was a charm-
ing mixture of all that is needed to make a garden
perfect — grass, velvety lawn rather ; water, for a
little brook ran tinkling in and out, playing bo-
peep among the bushes; trees, of course, and
flowers, of course, flowers of every shade and
shape. But all these beautiful things Griselda did
136 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
not at first give as much attention to as they
deserved ; her eyes were so occupied with a quite
unusual sight that met them.
This was butterflies ! Not that butterflies are so
very uncommon ; but butterflies, as Griselda saw
them, I am quite sure, children, none of you ever
saw, or are likely to see. There were such enor-
mous numbers of them, and the variety of their
colours and sizes was so great. They were flutter-
ing about everywhere ; the garden seemed actually
alive with them.
Griselda stood for a moment in silent delight,
feasting her eyes on the lovely things before her,
enjoying the delicious sunshine which kissed her
poor little bare feet, and seemed to wrap her all up
in its warm embrace. Then she turned to her
little friend.
" Cuckoo," she said, " I thank you so much.
This is fairyland, at last ! "
The cuckoo smiled, I was going to say, but that
vii.] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 137
would be a figure of speech only, would it not?
He shook his head gently.
"No, Griselda," he said kindly; "this is only
butterfly-land."
" Butterfly -land ! " repeated Griselda, with a
little disappointment in her tone.
"Well," said the cuckoo, "it's where you were
wishing to be yesterday, isn't it ? "
Griselda did not particularly like these allusions
to "yesterday." She thought it would be as well
to change the subject.
" It's a beautiful place, whatever it is," she said,
" and I'm sure, cuckoo, I'm very much obliged to
you for bringing me here. Now may I run about
and look at everything ? How delicious it is to
feel the warm sunshine again ! I didn't know how
cold I was. Look, cuckoo, my toes and fingers are
quite blue; they're only just beginning to come
right again. I suppose the sun always shines
here. How nice it must be to be a butterfly; don't
138 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap,
you think so, cuckoo ? Nothing to do but fly
about."
She stopped at last, quite out of breath.
" Griselda," said the cuckoo, " if you want me
to answer your questions, you must ask them one
at a time. You may run about and look at every-
thing if you like, but you had better not be in such
a hurry. You will make a great many mistakes
if you are — you have made some already."
"How?" said Griselda.
"Have the butterflies nothing to do but fly
about ? Watch them."
Griselda watched.
"They do seem to be doing something," she
said, at last, "but I can't think what. They seem
to be nibbling at the flowers, and then flying away,
something like bees gathering honey. Butterflies
don't gather honey, cuckoo ? "
" No," said the cuckoo. " They are filling their
paint-boxes."
vil] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 139
" What do you mean ? " said Griselda.
" Come and see," said the cuckoo.
He flew quietly along in front of her, leading
the way through the prettiest paths in all the
pretty garden. The paths were arranged in
different colours, as it were ; that is to say, the
flowers growing along their sides were not all
" mixty-maxty," but one shade after another in
regular order — from the palest blush pink to the
very deepest damask crimson ; then, again, from
the soft greenish blue of the small grass forget-
me-not to the rich warm tinge of the brilliant
cornflower. Every tint was there; shades, to
which, though not exactly strange to her, Griselda
could yet have given no name, for the daisy clew,
you see, had sharpened her eyes to observe delicate
variations of colour, as she had never done before.
"How beautifully the flowers are planned," she
said to the cuckoo. "Is it just to look pretty,
or why?"
140 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"It saves time," replied the cuckoo. "The
fetch -and- carry butterflies know exactly where to
go to for the tint the world-flower-painters want."
" Who are the fetch-and-carry butterflies, and
who are the world-flower -painters ? " asked Gri-
selda.
"Wait a bit and you'll see, and use your eyes,"
answered the cuckoo. "It'll do your tongue no
harm to have a rest now and then."
Griselda thought it as well to take his advice,
though not particularly relishing the manner in
which it was given. She did use her eyes, and
as she and the cuckoo made their way along the
flower alleys, she saw that the butterflies were
never idle. They came regularly, in little parties
of twos and threes, and nibbled away, as she
called it, at flowers of the same colour but
different shades, till they had got what they
wanted. Then off flew butterfly No. 1 with
perhaps the palest tint of maize, or yellow, or
vil] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 1-11
lavender, whichever he was in quest of, followed
by No. 2 with the next deeper shade of the same,
and No. 3 bringing up the rear.
Griselda gave a little sigh.
" What's the matter ? " said the cuckoo.
" They work very hard," she replied, in a melan-
choly tone.
" It's a busy time of year," observed the cuckoo,
drily,
After a while they came to what seemed to be
a sort of centre to the garden. It was a huge
glass house, with numberless doors, in and out
of which butterflies were incessantly flying —
reminding Griselda again of bees and a beehive.
But she made no remark till the cuckoo spoke
again.
" Come in," he said.
Griselda had to stoop a good deal, but she did
manage to get in without knocking her head or
doing any damage. Inside was just a mass of
142 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
butterflies. A confused mass it seemed at first,
but after a while she saw that it was the very
reverse of confused. The butterflies were all
settled in rows on long, narrow, white tables, and
before each was a tiny object about the size of
a flattened-out pin's head, which he was most
carefully painting with one of his tentacles, which,
from time to time, he moistened by rubbing it on
the head of a butterfly waiting patiently behind
him. Behind this butterfly again stood another,
who after a while took his place, while the first
attendant flew away.
"To fill his paint-box again," remarked the
cuckoo, who seemed to read Griselda's thoughts.
" But what are they painting, cuckoo ? " she
inquired eagerly.
"All the flowers in the world," replied the
cuckoo. "Autumn, winter, and spring, they're
hard at work. It's only just for the three months of
summer that the butterflies have any holiday, and
vii.] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 143
then a few stray ones now and then wander up to
the world, and people talk about ' idle butterflies ' !
And even then it isn't true that they are idle.
They go up to take a look at the flowers, to see
how their work has turned out, and many a
damaged petal they repair, or touch up a faded
tint, though no one ever knows it."
" I know it now," said Griselda. " I will never
talk about idle butterflies again — never. But,
euckoo, do they paint all the flowers here, too?
What a fearful lot they must have to do ! "
"No," said the cuckoo; "the flowers down here
are fairy flowers. They never fade or die, they
are always just as you see them. But the colours
of your flowers are all taken from them, as you
have seen. Of course they don't look the same
up there," he went on, with a slight contemptuous
shrug of his cuckoo shoulders; "the coarse air and
the ugly things about must take the bloom off.
The wild flowers do the best, to my thinking ; people
144 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK, [chap.
don't meddle with them in their stupid, clumsy
way."
" But how do they get the flowers sent up to the
world, cuckoo ? " asked Griselda.
" They're packed up, of course, and taken up at
night when all of you are asleep," said the cuckoo.
" They're painted on elastic stuff, you see, which
fits itself as the plant grows. Why, if your eyes
were as they are usually, Griselda, you couldn't
even see the petals the butterflies are painting
now."
"And the packing up," said Griselda; "do the
butterflies do that too ? "
" No," said the cuckoo, " the fairies look after
that."
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Griselda. But
before the cuckoo had time to say more a sudden
tumult filled the air. It was butterfly dinner-
time!
" Are you hungry, Griselda ? " said the cuckoo.
til] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 115
" Not so very," replied Griselda.
" It's just as well perhaps that you're not," he
remarked, "for I don't . know that you'd be much
the better for dinner here."
' ' Why not ? ' ' inquired Griselda curiously. "What
do '-they have for dinner? Honey? I like that
very well, spread on the top of bread-and-butter,
of course — I don't think I should care to eat it
alone."
"You won't get any honey," the cuckoo was
beginning ; but he was . interrupted. Two hand-
some butterflies flew into the great glass hall, and
making straight for the cuckoo, alighted on his
shoulders. They fluttered about him for a minute
or two, evidently rather excited about something,
then flew away again, as suddenly as they had
appeared.
" Those were royal messengers," said the cuckoo,
turning to Griselda. " They have come with a
message from, the king and queen to invite us to
146 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
a banquet which is to be held in honour of your
visit."
"What fun! " cried Griselda. "Do let's go at
once, cuckoo. But, oh dear me," she went on, with
a melancholy change of tone, " I was forgetting,
cuckoo. I can't go to the banquet. I have nothing
on but my night-gown. I never thought of it
before, for I'm not a bit cold."
"Never mind," said the cuckoo, " I'll soon have
that put to rights."
He flew off, and was back almost immediately,
followed by a whole flock of butterflies. They were
of a smaller kind than Griselda had hitherto seen,
and they were of two colours only ; half were blue,
half yellow. They flew up to Griselda, who felt for
a moment as if she were really going to be suffo-
cated by them, but only for a moment. Theye
seemed a great buzz and flutter about her, and
then the butterflies set to work to dress her. And
how do you think they dressed her ? With them-
SHE LOOKED I.IKE A FAIRY QUEEN. {.Page 147.
vii.] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 147
selves ! They arranged themselves all over her in
the cleverest way. One set of blue ones clustered
round the hem of her little white night-gown, making
a, thick "ruche" as it were; and then there came
two or three thinner rows of yellow, and then blue
again. Bound her waist they made the loveliest
belt of mingled blue and yellow, and all over the
upper part of her night-gown, in and out among
the pretty white frills which Dorcas herself " gof-
fered," so nicely, they made themselves into fan-
tastic trimmings of every shape and kind; bows,
rosettes — I cannot tell you what they did not
imitate.
Perhaps the prettiest ornament of all was the
coronet or wreath they made of themselves for her
head, dotting over her curly brown hair too with
butterfly spangles, which quivered like dew-drops
as she moved about. No one would have known
Griselda ; she looked like a fairy queen, or princess,
at least, for even her little white feet had what
148 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
looked like butterfly shoes upon them, though
these, you will understand, were only a sort of
make-believe, as, of course, the shoes were sole-
less.
" Now," said the cuckoo, when at last all was
quiet again, and every blue and every yellow
butterfly seemed settled in his place, " now,
Griselda, come and look at yourself."
He led the way to a marble basin, into which
fell the waters of one of the tinkling brooks that
were to be found everywhere about the garden, and
bade Griselda look into the water mirror. It
danced about rather ; but still she was quite able
to see herself. She peered in with great satisfac
tion, turning herself round so as to see first over
one shoulder, then over the other.
"It is lovely," she said at last. "But, cuckoo,
I'm just thinking — how shall I possibly be able to
sit down without crushing ever so many ?"
" Bless you, you needn't trouble about that,"
vii.] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 141)
said the cuckoo; "the butterflies are quite able to
take care of themselves. You don't suppose you
are the first little girl they have ever made a dress
for?"
Griselda said no more, but followed the cuckoo,
walking rather " gingerly," notwithstanding his
assurances that the butterflies could take care of
themselves. At last the cuckoo stopped, in front
of a sort of banked-up terrace, in the centre of
which grew a strange-looking plant with large,
smooth, spreading-out leaves, and on the two topmost
leaves, their splendid wings glittering in the sun-
shine, sat two magnificent butterflies. They were
many times larger than any Griselda had yet seen ;
in fact, the cuckoo himself looked rather small
beside them, and they were so beautiful that
Griselda felt quite over-awed. You could not have
said ' what colour they were, for at the faintest
movement they seemed to change into new colours,
each more exquisite than the last. Perhaps I
150 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
could best give you an idea of them by saying that
they were like living rainbows.
"Are those the king and queen?" asked
Griselda in a whisper.
"Yes," said the cuckoo. "Do you admire
them ? "
" I should rather think I did/' said Griselda.
"But, cuckoo, do they never do anything but lie
there in the sunshine ? "
" Oh, you silly girl," exclaimed the cuckoo,
" always jumping at conclusions. No, indeed, that
is not how they manage things in butterfly-land.
The king and queen have worked harder than any
other butterflies. They are chosen every now and
then, out of all the others, as being the most
industrious and the cleverest of all the world-
flower-painters, and then they are allowed to rest,
and are fed on the finest essences, so that they
grow as splendid as you see. But even now they
are not idle ; they superintend all the work that is
done, and choose all the new colours."
vil] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 151
" Dear me!" said Griselda, under her breath,
"how clever they must be."
Just then the butterfly king and queen stretched
out their magnificent wings, and rose upwards,
soaring proudly into the air.
"Are they going away?" said Griselda in a
disappointed tone.
" Oh no," said the cuckoo ; " they are welcoming
you. Hold out your hands."
Griselda held out her hands, and stood gazing up
into the sky. In a minute or two the royal butter-
flies appeared again, slowly, majestically circling
downwards, till at length they alighted on Griselda's
little hands, the king on the right, the queen on
the left, almost covering her fingers with their
great dazzling wings.
"You do look nice now," said the cuckoo,
hopping back a few steps and looking up at
Griselda approvingly; "but it's time for the feast
to begin, as it won't do for us to be late."
152 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
The king and queen appeared to understand.
They floated away from Griselda's hands and settled
themselves, this time, at one end of a beautiful little
grass plot or lawn, just below the terrace where
grew the large-leaved plant. This was evidently
their dining-room, for no sooner were they in their
place than butterflies of every kind and colour
came pouring in, in masses, from all directions.
Butterflies small and butterflies large; butterflies
light and butterflies dark; butterflies blue, pink,
crimson, green, gold-colour — every colour, and far,
far more colours than you could possibly imagine.
They all settled down, round the sides of the
grassy dining-table, and in another minute a
number of small white butterflies appeared, carry-
ing among them flower petals carefully rolled up,
each containing a drop of liquid. One of these
was presented to the king, and then one to the
queen, who each sniffed at their petal for an
instant, and then passed it on to the butterfly next
vn.~] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 153
them, whereupon fresh petals were handed to
them, which they again passed on.
" What are they doing, cuckoo ? " said Griselda ;
" that's not eating."
" It's their kind of eating," he replied. " They
don't require any other kind of food than a sniff of
perfume; and as there are perfumes extracted from
every flower in butterfly-land, and there are far
more flowers than you could count between now
and Christmas, you must allow there is plenty of
variety of dishes."
" Um-m," said Griselda ; "I suppose there is.
But all the same, cuckoo, it's a very good thing I'm
not hungry, isn't it ? May I pour the scent on my
pocket-handkerchief when it comes round to me?
I have my handkerchief here, you see. Isn't it
nice that I brought it ? It was under my pillow,
and I wrapped it round my hand to open the
shutter, for the hook scratched it once."
" You may pour one drop on your handkerchief,"
154 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [ohap,
said the cuckoo, " but not more. I shouldn't like
the butterflies to think you greedy."
But Griselda grew very tired of the scent feast
long before all the petals had been passed round.
The perfumes were very nice, certainly, but there
were such quantities of them — double quantities in
honour of the guest, of course ! Griselda screwed
up her handkerchief into a tight little ball, so that
the one drop of scent should not escape from it,
and then she kept sniffing at it impatiently, till at
last the cuckoo asked her what was the matter.
" I am so tired of the feast," she said. " Do let
us do something else, cuckoo."
"It is getting rather late," said the cuckoo.
"But see, Griselda, they are going to have an air-
dance now."
" What's that ? " said Griselda.
" Look, and you'll see," he replied.
Flocks and flocks of butterflies were rising a
short way into the air, and there arranging them-
selves in bands according to their colours.
vii.] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 155
" Come up on to the bank," said the cuckoo to
Griselda ; "you'll see them better."
Griselda climbed up the bank, and as from there
she could look down on the butterfly show, she
saw it beautifully. The long strings of butterflies
twisted in and out of each other in the most
wonderful way, like ribbons of every hue plaiting
themselves and then in an instant unplaiting them-
selves again. Then the king and queen placed
themselves in the centre, and round and round
in moving circles twisted and untwisted the
brilliant bands of butterflies.
"It's like a kaleidoscope," said Griselda; "and
now it's like those twisty-twirly dissolving views
that papa took me to see once. It's just like them.
Oh, how pretty ! Cuckoo, are they doing it all on
purpose to please me?"
" A good deal," said the cuckoo. " Stand up
and clap your hands loud three times, to show
them you're pleased."
156 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Griselda obeyed. "Clap" number one — all the
butterflies rose up into the air in a cloud; clap
number two — they all fluttered and twirled and
buzzed about, as if in the greatest excitement ;
clap number three — they all turned in Griselda's
direction with a rush.
"They're going to kiss you, Griselda," cried the
cuckoo.
Griselda felt her breath going. Up above her
was the vast feathery cloud of butterflies, fluttering,
rushing down upon her.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," she screamed, "they'll suf-
focate me. Oh, cuckoo ! "
" Shut your eyes, and clap your hands loud,
very loud," called out the cuckoo.
And just as Griselda clapped her hands, holding
her precious handkerchief between her teeth, she
heard him give his usual cry, " Cuckoo, cuckoo."
Clap — where were they all ?
Griselda opened her eyes— garden, butterflies,
vn.] BUTTERFLY-LAND. 157
cuckoo, all had disappeared. She was in bed, and
Dorcas was knocking at the door with the hot
water.
" Miss Grizzel said I was to wake you at your
usual time this morning, missie," she said. " I
hope you don't feel too tired to get up."
" Tired ! I should think not," replied Griselda.
" I was awake this morning ages before you, I can
tell you, my dear Dorcas. Come here for a
minute, Dorcas, please," she went on. " There
now, sniff my handkerchief. What do you think
of that ? "
"It's beautiful," said Dorcas. "It's out of the
big blue chinay bottle on your auntie's table, isn't
it, missie ? "
"Stuff and nonsense," replied Griselda; "it's
scent of my own, Dorcas. Aunt Grizzel never
had any like it in her life. There now ! Please
give me my slippers, I want to get up and look
over my lessons for Mr. Kneebreeches before he
158 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
comes. Dear me," she added to herself, as she
was putting on her slippers, "how pretty my feet
did look with the blue butterfly shoes ! It wTas
very good of the cuckoo to take me there, but I
don't think I shall ever wish to be a butterfly
again, nowT I know how hard they work! But
I'd like to do my lessons well to-day. I fancy it'll
please the dear old cuckoo."
viil] MASTER PHIL. 159
CHAPTEB VIII.
MASTER PHIL.
,k Who comes from the world of flowers ?
Daisy and crocus, and sea-bine bell,
And violet shrinking in dewy cell —
Sly cells that know the secrets of night,
When earth is bathed in fairy light —
Scarlet, and blue, and golden flowers."
And so Mr. Kneebreeches had no reason to com-
plain of bis pupil that day.
And Miss Grizzel congratulated herself more
heartily than ever on her wise management of
children.
And Miss Tabitha repeated that Sister Grizzel
might' indeed congratulate herself.
And Griselda became gradually more and morb
convinced that the only way as yet discovered of
ICO THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
getting through hard tasks is to set to work and
do them ; also, that grumbling, as things are at
present arranged in this world, does not always,
nor I may say often, do good ; furthermore, that
an ill-tempered child is not, on the whole, likely
to be as much loved as a good-tempered one;
lastly, that if you wait long enough, winter will
go and spring will come.
For this was the case this year, after all ! Spring
had only been sleepy and lazy, and in such a
case what could poor old winter do but fill the
vacant post till she came ? Why he should be so
scolded and reviled for faithfully doing his best,
as he often is, I really don't know. Not that all
the ill words he gets have much effect on him —
he comes again just as usual, whatever we say of
or to, him. I suppose his feelings have long ago
been frozen up, or surely before this he would
have taken offence— well for us that he has not
done so !
viii.] MASTER PHIL. 1G1
But when the spring did come at last this year,
it would be impossible for me to tell you how
Griselda enjoyed it. It was like new life to her
as well as to the plants, and flowers, and birds,
and insects. Hitherto, you see, she had been able
to see veiy little of the outside of her aunt's
house ; and charming as the inside was, the out-
side, I must say, was still "charniinger." There
seemed no end to the little up-and-down paths
and alleys, leading to rustic seats and quaint
arbours ; no limits to the little pine-wood, down
into which led the dearest little zig-zaggy path
you ever saw, all bordered with snow-drops and
primroses and violets, and later on with peri-
winkles, and wood anemones, and those bright,
starry, white flowers, whose name no two people
agree about.
This wood-path was the place, I think, which
Griselda loved the best. The bowling-green was
certainly very delightful, and so was the terrace
162 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
where the famous roses grew ; but lovely as the
voses were (I am speaking just now, of course, of
later on in the summer, when they were all in
bloom), Griselda could not enjoy them as much
as the wild-flowers, for she was forbidden to
gather or touch them, except with her funny round
nose !
" You may scent them, my dear," said Miss
Grizzel, who was of opinion that smell was not
a pretty word; "but I cannot allow anything
more."
And Griselda did " scent " them, I assure you.
She burrowed her whole rosy face in the big ones ;
but gently, for she did not want to spoil them,
both for her aunt's sake, and because, too, she had
a greater regard for flowers now that she knew the
secret of how they were painted, and what a
great deal of trouble the butterflies take about
them.
But after a while one grows tired of " scenting "
vin.] MASTER PHIL. 163
roses ; and even the trying to walk straight across
the bowling-green with her eyes shut, from the
arbour at one side to the arbour exactly like it at
the other, grew stupid, though no doubt it would
have been capital fun with a companion to applaud
or criticize.
So the wood-path became Griselda's favourite
haunt. As the summer grew on, she began to
long more than ever for a companion — not so
much for play, as for some one to play with. She
had lessons, of course, just as many as in the
winter; but with the long days, there seemed to
come a quite unaccountable increase of play-time,
and Griselda sometimes found it hang heawy on
her hands. She had not seen or heard anything
of the cuckoo either, save, of course, in his " official
capacity " of time-teller, for a very long time.
" I suppose," she thought, "he thinks I don't
need amusing, now that the fine days are come
and I can play in the garden ; and certainly, if I
164 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
had any one to play with, the garden would be
perfectly lovely."
But, failing companions, she did the best she
could for herself, and this was why she loved the
path down into the wood so much. There was a
sort of mystery about it ; it might have been the
path leading to the cottage of Eed-Eidinghood's
grandmother, or a path leading to fairyland itself.
There were all kinds of queer, nice, funny noises to
be heard there — in one part of it especially, where
Griselda made herself a seat of some moss-grown
stones, and where she came so often that she got
to know all the little flowers growing close round
about, and even the particular birds whose nests
were hard by.
She used to sit there and fancy — fancy that she
neard the wood-elves chattering under their breath,
or the little underground gnomes and kobolds
hammering at their fairy forges. And the tinkling
of the brook in the distance sounded like the
viii.] MASTER PHIL. 165
enchanted bells round the necks of the fairy kine,
who are sent out to pasture sometimes on the upper
world hill-sides. For Griselda's head was crammed
full, perfectly full, of fairy lore ; and the mandarins'
country, and butterfly-land, were quite as real to
her as the every-day world about her.
But all this time she was not forgotten by the
cuckoo, as you will see.
One day she was sitting in her favourite nest,
feeling, notwithstanding the sunshine, and the
flowers, and the soft sweet air, and the pleasant
sounds all about, rather dull and lonely. For though
it was only May, it was really quite a hot day, and
Griselda had been all the morning at her lessons,
and had tried very hard, and done them very well,
and now she felt as if she deserved some reward.
Suddenly in the distance, she heard a well-known
sound, " Cuckoo, cuckoo."
" Can that be the cuckoo ? " she said to herself;
and in a moment she felt sure that it must be.
160 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
For, for some reason that I clo not know enough
ahout the habits of real " flesh and blood " cuckoos
to explain, that bird was not known in the neigh-
bourhood where Griselda's aunts lived. Some
twenty miles or so further south it was heard regu-
larly, but all this spring Griselda had never caught
the sound of its familiar note, and she now remem-
bered hearing it never came to these parts.
So, " it must be my cuckoo," she said to herself.
" He must be coming out to speak to me. How
funny ! I have never seen him by daylight."
She listened. Yes, again there it was, "Cuckoo,
cuckoo," as plain as possible, and nearer than
before.
"Cuckoo," cried Griselda, "do come and talk
to me. It's such a long time since I have seen
you, and I have nobody to play with."
But there was no answer. Griselda held her
breath to listen, but there was nothing to be heard.
"Unkind cuckoo!" she exclaimed. "He is
vin.] MASTER PHIL. 167
tricking me, I do believe ; and to-day too, just when
I was so dull and lonely."
The tears came into her eyes, and she was
beginning to think herself very badly used, when
suddenly a rustling in the bushes beside her made
her turn round, more than half expecting to see the
cuckoo himself. But it was not he. The rustling
went on for a minute or two without anything
making its appearance, for the bushes were pretty
thick just there, and any one scrambling up from
the pinewood below would have had rather hard
wTork to get through, and indeed for a very big
person such a feat would have been altogether
impossible.
It was not a very big person, however, who was
causing all the rustling, and crunching of branches,
and- general commotion, which now absorbed
Griselda's attention. She sat watching for
another minute in perfect stillness, afraid of start-
ling by the slightest movement the squirrel or
168 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
rabbit or creature of some kind which she ex-
pected to see. At last — was that a squirrel or
rabbit — that rosy, round face, with shaggy, fair
hair falling over the eager blue eyes, and a general
look of breathlessness and over-heatedness and
determination ?
A squirrel or a rabbit ! No, indeed, but a very
sturdy, very merry, very ragged little boy.
" Where are that cuckoo ? Does you know ? "
were the first words he uttered, as soon as he had
fairly shaken himself, though not by any means
all his clothes, free of the bushes (for ever so many
pieces of jacket and knickerbockers, not to speak
of one boot and half his hat, had been left behind
on the way), and found breath to say something.
Griselda stared at him for a moment without
speaking. She was so astonished. It was months
since she had spoken to a child, almost since she
had seen one, and about children younger than
herself she knew very little at any time, being the
WHERE ARE THAT CUCKOO?
[Page 1 68.
viii.] MASTER PHIL. 169
baby of the family at home, you see, and having only
big brothers older than herself for play-fellows.
"Who are you?" she said at last. "What's
your name, and what do you want ? "
" My name's Master Phil, and I want that
cuckoo," answered the little boy. " He earned up
this way. I'm sure he did, for he called me all the
way."
"He's not here," said Griselda, shaking her
head; "and this is my aunts' garden. No one is
allowed to come here but friends of theirs. You
had better go home ; and you have torn your
clothes so."
"This aren't a garden," replied the little fellow
undauntedly, looking round him; "this are a
wood. There are blue-bells and primroses here,
and that shows it aren't a garden — not anybody's
garden, I mean, with walls round, for nobody to
come in."
" But it is" said Griselda, getting rather vexed.
170 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap,
" If it isn't a garden it's grounds, private grounds,
and nobody should come without leave. This path
leads down to the wood, and there's a door in the
wall at the bottom to get into the lane. You may
go down that way, little boy. No one comes
scrambling up the way you did."
" But I want to find the cuckoo," said the little
boy. " I do so want to find the cuckoo."
His voice sounded almost as if he were going to
cry, and his pretty, hot, flushed face puckered up.
Griselda's heart smote her; she looked at him
more carefully. He was such a very little boy,
after all ; she did not like to be cross to him.
" How old are you ? " she asked.
" Five and a bit. I had a birthday after the
summer, and if I'm good, nurse says perhaps I'll
have one after next summer too. Do you ever
have birthdays?" he went on, peering up at
Griselda. "Nurse says she used to when she was
young, but she never has any now."
viii.] MASTER PHIL. 171
" Have you a nurse ? " asked Griselda, rather
surprised; for, to tell the truth, from "Master
Phil's" appearance, she had not felt at all sure
what sort of little boy he was, or rather what sort
of people he belonged to.
" Of course I have a nurse, and a mother too,"
said the little boy, opening wide his eyes in surprise
at the question. " Haven't you ? Perhaps you're
too big, though. People leave off having nurses
and mothers when they're big, don't they ? Just
like birthdays. But I wTon't. I won't never leave
off having a mother, any way. I don't care so
much about nurse and birthdays, not kite so much.
Did you care when you had to leave off, when you
got too big ? "
"I hadn't to leave off because I got big," said
Griselda sadly. "I left off when I was much
littler than you," she went on, unconsciously
speaking as Phil would best understand her. " My
mother died."
172 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"I'm werry sorry," said Phil; and the way in
which he said it quite overcame Griselda's un-
friendliness. " But perhaps you've a nice nurse.
My nurse is rather nice ; but she will 'cold me to-
day, won't she ? " he added, laughing, pointing to
the terrible rents in his garments. " These are
my very oldestest things; that's a good thing, isn't
it ? Nurse says I don't look like Master Phil in
these, hut when I have on my blue welpet, then I
look like Master Phil. I shall have my blue welpet
when mother comes."
" Is your mother away ? " said Griselda.
" Oh yes, she's been away a long time ; so nurse
came here to take care of me at the farm-house,
you know. Mother was ill, but she's better now,
and some day she'll come too."
"Do you like being at the farm-house? Have
you anybody to play with ? " said Griselda.
Phil shook his curly head. " I never have any-
body to play with," he said. " I'd like to play with
viii.] MASTER PHIL. 173
you if you're not too big. And do you think you
could help me to find the cuckoo ? " he added
insinuatingly.
"What do you know about the cuckoo?" said
Griselda.
"He called me," said Phil, "he called me lots
of times ; and to-day nurse was busy, so I thought
I'd come. And do you know," he added mys-
teriously, "I do believe the cuckoo's a fairy, and
when I find him I'm going to ask him to show me
Jie way to fairyland."
" He says we must all find the way ourselves,"
said Griselda, quite forgetting to whom she was
speaking.
" Does he ? " cried Phil, in great excitement.
"Do you know him, then? and have you asked
him ? Oh, do tell me."
Griselda recollected herself. " You couldn't
understand," she said. " Some day perhaps I'll
tell you — I mean if ever I see you again."
174 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"But I may see you again," said Phil, settling
himself down comfortably beside Griselda on her
•mossy stone. " You'll let me come, won't you ? I
like to talk about fairies, and nurse doesn't under-
stand. And if the cuckoo knows you, perhaps
that's why he called me to come to play with you."
" How did he call you ? " asked Griselda.
" First," said Phil gravely, " it was in the night.
I was asleep, and I had been wishing I had some-
body to play with, and then I d'eamed of the
cuckoo — such a nice d'eam. And when I woke up
I heard him calling me, and I wasn't d'eaming
then. And then when I was in the field he called
me, but I couldn't find him, and nurse said
'Nonsense.' And to-day he called me again, so
I earned up through the bushes. And mayn't I
come again? Perhaps if we both tried together
we could find the way to fairyland. Do you think
we could ? "
" I don't know," ^aid Griselda, dreamily.
vm.] MASTER PHIL. 175
"There's a great deal to learn first, the cuckoo
says."
"Have you learnt a great deal?" (he called it
" a gate deal ") asked Phil, looking up at Griselda
with increased respect. "I don't know scarcely
nothing. Mother was ill such a long time before
she went away, but I know she wanted me to learn
to read books. But nurse is too old to teach me."
"Shall I teach you?" said Griselda. "I can
bring some of my old books and teach you here
after I have done my own lessons."
"And then mother would be surprised when
she comes back," said Master Phil, clapping his
hands. " Oh, do. And when I've learnt to read
a great deal, do you think the cuckoo would show
us the way to fairyland ? "
" I don't think it was that sort of learning he
meant," said Griselda. "But I dare say that would
help. I think," she went on, lowering her voice a
little, and looking down gravely into Phil's earnest
176 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
eyes, "I think he means mostly learning to be very
good — very, very good, you know."
" Gooder than you ? " said Phil.
"Oh dear, yes; lots and lots gooder than me,"
replied Griselda.
"I think you're very good," observed Phil, in a
parenthesis. Then he vent on with his cross-
questioning.
" Gooder than mother ? "
" I don't know your mother, so how can I tell
how good she is ? " said Griselda.
" I can tell you," said Phil, importantly. " She
is just as good as — as good as — as good as good.
That's what she is."
"You mean she couldn't be better," said Griselda,
smiling.
"Yes, that'll do, if you like. Would that be
good enough for us to be, do you think ? "
"We must ask the cuckoo," said Griselda.
"But I'm sure it would be a good thing for you
vm.J MASTER PHIL.
to learn to read. You must ask your nurse to let
you come here every afternoon that it's fine, and
I'll ask my aunt."
"I needn't ask nurse," said Phil composedly;
" she'll never know where I am, and I needn't tell
her. She doesn't care what I do, except tearing
my clothes; and when she scolds me, I don't care."
" That isn't good, Phil," said Griselda gravely.
"You'll never be as good as good if you speak
like that."
" What should I say, then ? TeU me," said the
little boy submissively.
" You should ask nurse to let you come to play
with me, and tell her I'm much bigger than you,
and I won't let you tear your clothes. And you
should tell her you're very sorry you've torn them
to-day."
"Very well," said Phil, "I'll say that. But,
oh see ! " he exclaimed, darting off, " there's a field
mouse ! If only I could catch him ! "
178 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Of course lie couldn't catch him, nor could Griselda
either ; very ready, though, she was to do her best.
But it was great fun all the same, and the children
laughed heartily and enjoyed themselves tremen-
dously. And when they were tired they sat down
again and gathered flowers for nosegays, and
Griselda was surprised to find how clever Phil
was about it. He was much quicker than she at
spying out the prettiest blossoms, however hidden
behind tree, or stone, or shrub. And he told
her of all the best places for flowers near by,
and where grew the largest primroses and the
sweetest violets, in a way that astonished her.
"You're such a little boy," she said; "how do
you know so much about flowers ? "
"I've had no one else to play with," he said
innocently. "And then, you know, the fairies are
so fond of them."
When Griselda thought it was time to go home,
she led little Phil down the wood-path, and
viii.] MASTER PHIL. 179
through the door in the wall opening on to the
lane.
"Now you can find your way home without
scrambling through any more bushes, can't you,
Master Phil?" she said.
" Yes, thank you, and I'll come again to that
place to-morrow afternoon, shall I ? " asked Phil.
"I'll know when — after I've had my dinner and
raced three times round the big field, then it'll be
time. That's how it was to-day."
" I should think it would do if you walked three
times — or twice if you like — round the field. II
isn't a good thing to race just when you've had
your dinner," observed Griselda sagely. "And you
mustn't try to come if it isn't fine, for my aunts
won't let me go out if it rains even the tiniest bit.
And of course you must ask your nurse's leave."
" Very well," said little Phil as he trotted off.
"I'll try to remember all those things. I'm so
glad you'll play with me again ; and if yon ss« the
cuckoo, please thank him."
180 THE CTfCEOO CLOCK. [chap.
CHAPTER IX.
UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY.
"Helper. Well, but if it was all dream, it would be the same
as if it was all real, would it not ?
Keeper. Yes, I Bee. I mean. Sir, I do not see." — A Lilipvi
Bevel.
Sot having "just had her dinner," and feeling
very much inclined for her tea, Grisekla ran home
at a great rate.
She felt, too, in such good spirits ; it had been so
delightful to have a companion in her play.
"What a good thing it was I didn't make Phil
run away before I found out what a nice little boy
he was," she said to herself. "I must look out
my old reading hooks to-night. I shall so like
ix.] UP AND DOWX THE CELMXET. 1S1
teaching him, poor little boy, and the cuckoo will
be pleased at my doing something useful, I'm sine."
Tea was quite ready, in fact waiting for her,
when she came in. This was a meal she always
had by herself, brought up on a tray to Dorcas's
little sitting-room, where Dorcas waited upon her.
And sometimes when Griseldawas in a particularly
good humour she would beg Dorcas to sit down and
have a cup of tea with her — a liberty the old
servant was far too dignifie and respectful to
have thought of taking, unless specially requested
to do so.
This evening, as you know, Griselda was in a
very particularly good humour, and besides this,
so very full of her adventures, that she would have
been glad of an even loss sympathising listener
than Dorcas was likely to be.
" Sit down, Dorcas, and have some more tea,
do," she said coaxingly. "It looks ever so much
more comfortable, and I'm sure you could eat a
182 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
little more if you tried, whether you've had your
tea in the kitchen or not. I'm fearfully hungry, I
can tell you. You'll have to cut a whole lot more
bread and butter, and not ' ladies' slices ' either."
"How your tongue does go, to be sure, Miss
Griselda," said Dorcas, smiling, as she seated
herself on the chair Griselda had drawn in
for her.
" And why shouldn't it ? " said Griselda saucily.
"It doesn't do it any harm. But oh, Dorcas, I've
had such fun this afternoon — really, you couldn't
guess what I've been doing."
" Very likely not, missie," said Dorcas.
"But you might try to guess. Oh no, I don't
think you need — guessing takes such a time, and I
want to tell you. Just fancy, Dorcas, I've been
playing with a little boy in the wood."
" Playing with a little boy, Miss Griselda ! "
exclaimed Dorcas, aghast.
"Yes, and he's coming again to-morrow, and
y
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 183
the day after, and every day, I dare say," said
Griselda. " He is such a nice little boy."
" But, inissie," began Dorcas.
" Well ? What's the matter ? You needn't look
like that — as if I had done something naughty,"
said Griselda sharply.
"But you'll tell your aunt, missie ? "
"Of course," said Griselda, looking up fearlessly
into Dorcas's face with her bright grey eyes. " Of
course ; why shouldn't I ? I must ask her to give
the little boy leave to come into our grounds ; and I
told the little boy to be sure to tell his nurse, who
takes care of him, about his playing with me."
" His nurse," repeated Dorcas, in a tone of
some relief. " Then he must be quite a little boy,
perhaps Miss Grizzel would not object so much in
that case."
"Why should she object at all? She might
know I wouldn't want to play with a naughty rude
boy," said Griselda.
184 THE C I -< CLOCK. [ceap.
•• She thinks all " :;> rude and naughty. I'm
afraid, missi 3," said 1 rcas. " Ail, that is to say,
opting your dear papa. But then, of course, she
had the bringing up of him in her own way fi 'om
the beginning.'1
••Y>"ell, I'll ;.-'; her, any way,'3 sr.il Griselda,
• n lii sh says I'm not to play with him, I shall
think — I know what I shall think of Aunt Grizzel,
- hethei I say i: 01 not."
And the .1:1 look of rebellion and discontent
B :::led down again on her rosy face.
"Be careful, missie, n >w do, there's a dear good
girl," said Boreas anxiously, an hour* later, when
Griselda, dressed as usual in her little white muslin
frock, was ready to join her aunts at dessert.
But Griselda would not condescend to make any
reply.
" Aunt Grizzel," she said suddenly, when she
had eaten an orange and three biscuits and drunk
half a glass of home-made elder-berry wine,
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CEIMNET. 185
"Aunt Grizzel, when I was out in the garden
to-day — down the woodpath, I mean — I met a Utile
boy, and he played with me, and I want to know
if he may come every day to play with me."'
Griselda knew she was not making her request
in a very amiable or becoming manner : she fa
indeed, that she was making it in such a way as
was almost certain to lead to Its I ing refused; and
yet, though she was really so very, very anxious to
get leave to play with little Phil, she took a
of spiteful pleasure in injuring her own cause
How foolish ill-temper makes us '. Griselda ha 1
allowed herself to get S3 angry at the thought of
being thwarted that had her aunt looked up
quietly and said at once, " Oh yes, you may have
the little boy to play with you whenever you like,"
she would really, in a strange distorted sort of way,
have been disappointed.
But, of course, Miss Grizzel made no such reply.
Nothing less than a miracle could have made her
186 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
answer Griselda otherwise than as she did. Like
Dorcas, for an instant, she was utterly "flabber-
gasted," if yon know what that means. For she
was really quite an old lady, yon know, and sensible
as she was, things upset her much more easily
than when she was younger.
Naughty Griselda saw her uneasiness, and en-
joyed it.
'•'Playing with a boy!" exclaimed Miss Grizzel.
" A boy in my grounds, and you, my niece, to have
played with him ! "
" Yes," said Griselda coolly, " and I want to
play with him again."
" Griselda," said her aunt, " I am too astonished
to say more at present. Go to bed."
" Why should I go to bed ? It is not my bed-
time," cried Griselda, blazing up. ""What have
I done to be sent to bed as if I were in disgrace ? "
"Go to bed," repeated Miss Grizzel. "I will
speak to you to-morrow."
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 187
"You are very unfair and unjust," said Griselda,
starting up from her chair. " That's all the good
of being honest and telling everything. I might
have played with the little boy every day for a
month and you would never have known, if I hadn't
told you."
She banged across the room as she spoke, and
out at the door, slamming it behind her rudely.
Then upstairs like a whirlwind ; but when she got
to her own room, she sat down on the floor and
burst into tears, and when Dorcas came up, nearly
half an horn later, she was still in the same place,
crouched up in a little heap, sobbing bitterly.
" Oh, missie, missie," said Dorcas, "it's just
what I was afraid of ! "
As Griselda rushed out of the room Miss
Grizzel leant back in her chair and sighed
deeply.
" Already," she said faintly. " She was never
so violent before. Can one afternoon's companion-
188 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
ship with rudeness have already contaminated her ?
Already, Tabitha — can it be so ? "
"Already," said Miss Tabitha, softly shaking
her head, which somehow made her look wonder-
fully like an old cat, for she felt cold of an evening
and usually wore a very fine woolly shawl of a
delicate grey shade, and the borders of her cap
and the ruffles round her throat and wrists
were all of fluffy, downy white—" already," she
said.
"Yet," said Miss Grizzel, recovering herself a
little, " it is true what the child said. She might
have deceived us. Have I been hard upon her,
Sister Tabitha ? "
"Hard upon her! Sister Grizzel," said Miss
Tabitha with more energy than usual; "no, cer
tainly not. For once, Sister Grizzel, I disagree
with you. ..Hard upon her ! Certainly not."
But Miss Grizzel did not feel happy.
When she went up to her own room at night she
ix.] UP AND DOWN TEE CHIMNEY. 189
was surprised to find Dorcas waiting for her,
instead of the younger maid.
" I thought you would not mind having me,
instead of Martha, to-night, ma'am," she said,
"for I did so want to speak to you about Miss
Griselda. The poor, dear young lady has gone to
bed so very unhappy."
" But do you know what she has done, Dorcas ?"
said Miss Grizzel. "Admitted a boy, a rude,
common, impertinent boy, into my precincts, and
played with him — with a boy, Dorcas."
"Yes, ma'am," said Dorcas. "I know all about
it, ma'am. Miss Griselda has told me all. But if
you would allow me to give an opinion, it isn't
quite so bad. He's quite a little boy, ma'am —
between five and six — only just about the age Miss
Griselda's dear papa was when he first came to us,
and, by all I can hear, quite a little gentleman."
"A little gentleman," repeated Miss Grizzel,
{' and not six years old ! That is less objectionable
190 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
than I expected. What is his name, as you know
so much, Dorcas ? "
"Master Phil," replied Dorcas. " That is what
he told Miss Griselda, and she never thought to
ask him more. But I'll tell you how we could
get to hear more about him, I think, ma'am.
From what Miss Griselda says, I believe he is
staying at Mr. Crouch's farm, and that, you know,
ma'am, belongs to my Lady Lavander, though it is
a good way from Merrybrow Hall. My lady is
pretty sure to know about the child, for she knows
all that goes on among her tenants, and I remem-
ber hearing that a little gentleman and his nurse
had come to Mr. Crouch's to lodge for six months.',
Miss Grizzel listened attentively.
"Thank you, Dorcas," she said, when the old
servant had left off speaking. " You have behaved
frith your usual discretion. I shall drive over to
Merrybrow to-morrow, and make inquiry. And you
may tell Miss Griselda in the morning what I
)
Ei.] UP AND DOWN TEE CHIMNEY. 191
purpose doing ; but tell her also that, as a punish-
ment for her rudeness and ill-temper, she must
have breakfast in her own room to-morrow, and
not see me till I send for her. Had she restrained
her temper and explained the matter, all this dis-
tress might have been saved."
Dorcas did not wait till "to-morrow morning; "
she could not bear to think of Griselda's unhappi-
ness. From her mistress's room she went straight
to the little girl's, going in very softly, so as not to
disturb her should she be sleeping.
" Are you awake, missie ? " she said gently.
Griselda started up.
"Yes," she exclaimed. "Is it you, cuckoo?
I'm quite awake."
" Bless the child," said Dorcas to herself, "how
her head does run on Miss Sybilla's cuckoo. It's
really wonderful. There's more in such things
than some people think."
But aloud she only replied —
192 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" It's Dorcas, missie. No fairy, only old Dorcas
come to comfort you a bit. Listen, missie. Your
auntie is going over to Merrybrow Hall to-morrow
to inquire about this little Master Phil from my
Lady Lavander, for we think it's at one of her
ladyship's farms that he and his nurse are staying,
and if she hears that he's a nice-mannered little
gentleman, and comes of good parents — why,
missie, there's no saying but that you'll get leave
to play with him as much as you like."
" But not to-morrow, Dorcas," said Griselda.
"Aunt Grizzel never goes to Merrybrow till the
afternoon. She won't be back in time for me to
play with Phil to-morrow."
" No, but next day, perhaps," said Dorcas.
" Oh, but that won't do," said Griselda, begin-
ning to cry again. " Poor little Phil will be
coming up to the wood-path to-morrow, and if he
doesn't find me, he'll be so unhappy — perhaps he'll
never come again if I don't meet him to-morrow."
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 193
Dorcas saw that the little girl was worn out and
excited, and not yet inclined to take a reasonable
view of things.
"Go to sleep, missie," she said kindly, " and
don't think anything more about it till to-rnorrow.
It'll be all right, you'll see."
Her patience touched Griselda.
" You are very kind, Dorcas," she said. " I
don't mean to be cross to you; but I can't bear
to think of poor little Phil. Perhaps he'll sit down
on my mossy stone and cry. Poor little Phil ! "
But notwithstanding her distress, when Dorcas
had left her she did feel her heart a little lighter,
and somehow or other before long she fell asleep.
When she awoke it seemed to be suddenly, and
she had the feeling that something had disturbed
her. She lay for a minute or two perfectly still-
listening. Yes ; there it was — the soft, faint rustle
in the air that she knew so well. It seemed as
if something was moving away from her.
o
394 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" Cuckoo," she said gently, " is that you ? "
A moment's pause, then came the answer — the
pretty greeting she expected.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," soft and musical. Then the
cuckoo spoke.
"Well, Griselda," he said, "and how are you?
It's a good while since we have had any fun
together."
" That's not my fault," said Griselda sharply.
She was not yet feeling quite as amiable as might
have been desired, you see. " That's certainly not
my fault," she repeated.
" I never said it was," replied the cuckoo.
"Why will you jump at conclusions so? It's a
very bad habit, for very often you jump over them,
you see, and go too far. One should always walk
up to conclusions, very slowly and evenly, right
foot first, then left, one with another — that's the
way to get where you want to go, and feel sure of
your ground. Do you see ? "
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 195
" I don't know whether I do or not, and I'm not
going to speak to you if you go on at me like that.
You might see I don't want to be lectured when
I am so unhappy.'*
" What are you unhappy about ? "
" About Phil, of course. I won't tell you, for
I believe you know," said Griselda. " Wasn't it
you that sent him to play with me? I was so
pleased, and I thought it was very kind of you;
but it's all spoilt now."
"But I heard Dorcas saying that your aunt is
going over to consult my Lady Lavander about
it," said the cuckoo. "It'll be all right; you
needn't be in such low spirits about nothing."
" Were you in the room then ? " said Griselda.
"How funny you are, cuckoo. But it isn't all
right. Don't you see, poor little Phil will be
coming up the wood-path to-morrow afternoon to
meet me, and I won't be there ! I can't bear to
think of it."
196 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"Is that all?" said the cuckoo. "It really is
extraordinary how some people make troubles out
of nothing ! We can easily tell Phil not to come
till the day after. Come along."
"Come along," repeated Griselda; "what do
you mean?"
"Oh, I forgot," said the cuckoo. "You don't
understand. Put out your hand. There, do you
feel me ? "
"Yes," said Griselda, stroking gently the soft
feathers which seemed to be close under her hand.
" Yes, I feel you."
"Well, then," said the cuckoo, "'put your
arms round my neck, and hold me firm. I'll lift
you up."
"How can you talk such nonsense, cuckoo?"
said Griselda. "Why, one of my little fingers
would clasp your neck. How can I put my arms
round it ? "
" Try," said the cuckoo.
ix.] UP AND DOWN TEE CHIMNEY. 107
Somehow Griselcla had to try.
She held out her arms in the cuckoo's direction,
as if she expected his neck to be about the size
of a Shetland pony's, or a large Newfoundland
dog's ; and, to her astonishment, so it was ! A
nice, comfortable, feathery neck it felt — so soft
that she could not help laying her head down
upon it, and nestling in the downy cushion.
" That's right," said the cuckoo.
Then he seemed to give a little spring, and
Griselda felt herself altogether lifted on to his
back. She lay there as comfortably as possible —
it felt so firm as well as soft. Up he flew a little
way — then stopped short.
"Are you all right?" he inquired. "You're
not afraid of falling off?"
" Oh no," said Griselda ; " not a bit."
"You needn't be," said the cuckoo, "for you
couldn't if you tried. I'm going on, then."
" "Where to ? " said Griselda.
108 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" Up the chimney first," said the cuckoo.
"But there'll never be room," said Griselda.
" I might perhaps crawl up like a sweep, hands and
knees, you know, like going up a ladder. But
stretched out like this — it's just as if I were lying
on a sofa — I couldn't go up the chimney."
" Couldn't you ? " said the cuckoo. " We'll see.
/ intend to go, any way, and to take you with me.
Shut your eyes — one, two, three — here goes — we'll
be up the chimney before you know."
It was quite true. Griselda shut her eyes tight.
She felt nothing but a pleasant sort of rush. Then
she heard the cuckoo's voice, saying —
" Well, wasn't that well done ? Open your eyes
and look about you."
Griselda did so. Where were they ?
They were floating about above the top of the
house, which Griselda saw down below them,
looking dark and vast. She felt confused and
bewildered.
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 199
" Cuckoo," she said, " I don't understand. Is it
I that have grown little, or you that have grown
big?"
" Whichever you please," said the cuckoo.
" You have forgotten. I told you long ago it is all
a matter of fancy."
" Yes, if everything grew little together,'" per-
sisted Griselda; "but it isn't everything. It's
just you or rne, or both of us. No, it can't
be both of us. And I don't think it can be me,
for if any of me had grown little all would, and
my eyes haven't grown little, for everything
looks as big as usual, only you a great deal
bigger. My eyes can't have grown bigger without
the rest of me, surely, for the moon looks just the
same. And I must have grown little, or else we
couldn't have got up the chimney. Oh, cuckoo,
you have put all my thinking into such a muddle!"
" Never mind," said the cuckoo. " It'll show
you how little consequence big and little are of.
200 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Make yourself comfortable all the same. Are you
all right ? Shut your eyes if you like. I'm going
pretty fast."
" Where to ? " said Griselda.
" To Phil, of course," said the cuckoo. " What
a bad memory you have ! Are you comfortable ? "
" Very, thank you," replied Griselda, giving the
cuckoo's neck an affectionate hug as she spoke. •
" That'll do, thank you. Don't throttle me, if
it's quite the same to you," said the cuckoo.
"Here goes — one, two, three," and off he flew
again.
Griselda shut her eyes and lay still. It was
delicious— the gliding, yet darting motion, like
nothing she had ever felt before. It did not make
her the least giddy, either ; but a slightly sleepy
feeling came over her. She felt no inclination to
open her eyes ; and, indeed, at the rate they were
going, she could have distinguished very little had
she done so.
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 201
Suddenly the feeling in the air about her
changed. For an instant it felt more rushy than
before, and there was a queer, dull sound in her
ears. Then she felt that the cuckoo had stopped.
" Where are we ? " she asked.
" "We've just come down a chimney again," said
the cuckoo. " Open your eyes and clamber down
off my back, but don't speak loud, or you'll waken
him, and that wouldn't do. There you are— the
moonlight's coming in nicely at the window — you
can see your way."
Griselda found herself in a little bedroom, quite
a tiny one, and by the look of the simple furniture
and the latticed window, she saw that she was not
in a grand house. But everything looked very
neat and nice, and on a little bed in one corner lay
a lovely sleeping child. It was Phil ! He looked
so pretty asleep — his shaggy curls all tumbling
about, his rosy mouth half open as if smiling,
one little hand tossed over his head, the other
202 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
tight clasping a little basket "which he had insisted
on taking to bed with him, meaning as soon as he
was dressed the next morning to run out and fill it
with flowers for the little girl he had made friends
with.
Griselda stepped up to the side of the bed on
tiptoe. The cuckoo had disappeared, but Griselda
heard his voice. It seemed to come from a little
way up the chimney.
"Don't wake him," said the cuckoo, "but
whisper what you want to say into his ear, as
soon as I have called him. He'll understand;
he's accustomed to my ways."
Then came the old note, soft and musical as
ever —
" Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo. Listen, Phil," said
the cuckoo, and without opening his eyes a change
passed over the little boy's face. Griselda could
see that he was listening to hear her message.
" He thinks he's dreaming, I suppose," she said
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 203
to herself with a smile. Then she whispered
softly —
" Phil, clear, don't come to play with me to-
morrow, for I can't come. But come the day
after. I'll be at the wood-path then."
"Welly well," murmured Phil. Then he put
out his two arms towards Griselda, all without
opening his eyes, and she, bending down, kissed
him softly.
" Phil's so sleepy," he whispered, like a baby
almost. Then he turned over and went to sleep
more soundly than before.
"That'll do," said the cuckoo. "Come along,
Griselda."
Griselda obediently made her way to the place
whence the cuckoo's voice seemed to come.
" Shut your eyes and put your arms round my
neck again,', said the cuckoo.
She did not hesitate this time. It all happened
just as before. There came the same sort of rushy
204 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
sound: then the cuckoo stopped, and Griselda
opened her eyes.
They were up in the air again — a good way up,
too, for some grand old elms that stood beside
the farmhouse were gently waving their topmost
branches a yard or two from where the cuckoo
was poising himself and Griselda.
''Where shall we go to now?" he said. "Or
would you rather go home ? Are you tired ? "
" Tired!" exclaimed Griselda. " I should rather
think not. How could I be tired, cuckoo ? "
" Very well, don't excite yourself about nothing,
whatever you do," said the cuckoo. " Say where
you'd like to go."
"How can I? " said Griselda. "You know far
more nice places than I do."
"You don't care to go back to the mandarins,
or the butterflies, I suppose ? " asked the cuckoo.
" No, thank you," said Griselda ; " I'd like some-
thing new. And I'm not sure that I care for seeing
TIRED ! HOW COULD I BE TIRED, CUCKOO
[Page 204.
ix.] UP AND DOWN THE CHIMNEY. 205
any more countries of that kind, unless you could
take me to the real fairyland."
"I can't do that, you know," said the cuckoo.
Just then a faint " soughing" sound among the
branches suggested another idea to Griselda.
"Cuckoo," she exclaimed, "take me to the sea.
It's such a time since I saw the sea. I can fancy
I hear it ; do take me to see it."
206 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [cnAr.
CHAPTEK X.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON.
"That after supper time has come,
And silver clews the meadow steep.
And all is silent in the home,
And even nurses are asleep,
That be it late, or be it soon,
Upon this lovely night in Juno
They both will step into the moon."
" Very well," said the cuckoo. " You would like
to look about you a little on the way, perhaps,
Griselda, as we shall not be going down chimneys,
or anything of that kind just at present."
" Yes," said Griselda. " I think I should. I'm
rather tired of shutting my eyes, and I'm getting
quite accustomed to flying about with you, cuckoo."
x.] THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON. 207
"Turn on your side, then," said the cuckoo,
"and you won't have to twist your neck to see
over my shoulder. Are you comfortable now?
And, by-the-by, as you may be cold, just feel under
my left wing. You'll find the feather mantle there,
that you had on once before. Wrap it round you.
I tucked it in at the last moment, thinking you
might want it."
" Oh, you dear, kind cuckoo ! " cried Griselda.
"Yes, I've found it. I'll tuck it all round me like
a rug — that's it. I am so warm now, cuckoo."
" Here goes, then," said the cuckoo, and off they
set. Had ever a little girl- such a flight before?
Floating, darting, gliding, sailing — no words can
describe it. Griselda lay still in delight, gazing all
about her.
" How lovely the stars are, cuckoo ! " she said.
" Is it true they're all great, big suns ? I'd rather
they weren't. I like to think of them as nice,
funny little things."
2C5 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" They're not all suns/' said the cuckoo. "Not
all those you're looking at now."
" I like the twinkling ones best," said Griselda.
" They look so good-natured. Are they all twirling
about always, cuckoo ? Mr. Kneebreeches has just
begun to teach me astronomy, and he says they
are ; but I'm not at all sure that he knows much
about it."
"He's quite right all the same," replied the
cuckoo.
" Oh dear me ! How tired they must be, then ! "
said Griselda. "Do they never rest just for a
minute ?"
" Never."
"Why not?"
" Obeying orders," replied the cuckoo.
Griselda gave a little wriggle.
"What's the use of it?" she said. "It would
be just as nice if they stood still now and then."
" Would it ? " said the cuckoo. " I know somo
x.] THE OTHER SIDE OF TEE MOON. 209
body who would soon find fault if they did. What
would you say to no summer ; no day, or no night,
whichever it happened not to be, you see ; nothing
growing, and nothing to eat before long? That's
what it would be if they stood still, you see,
because "
" Thank you, cuckoo," interrupted Griselda.
"It's very nice to hear you — I mean, very dreadful
to think of, but I don't want you to explain. I'll
ask Mr. Kneebreeches when I'm at my lessons.
You might tell me one thing, however. What's at
the other side of the moon ? "
" There's a variety of opinions," said the cuckoo.
" What are they ? Tell me the funniest."
" Some say all the unfinished work of the world
is kept there," said the cuckoo.
"That's not funny," said Griselda. "What a
messy place it must be ! Why, even my unfinished
work makes quite a heap. I don't like that opinion
at all, cuckoo. Tell me another."
p
210 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
" I have heard," said the cuckoo, " that among
the places there you would find the country of the
little black dogs. You know what sort of creatures
those are ? "
"Yes, I suppose so," said Griselda, rather
reluctantly.
" There are a good many of them in this world,
as of course you know," continued the cuckoo.
"But up there, they are much worse than here.
When a child has made a great pet of one down
here, I've heard tell the fairies take him up there
when his parents and nurses think he's sleeping
quietly in his bed, and make him work hard all
night, with his own particular little black dog on
his back. And it's so dreadfully heavy — for every
time he takes it on his back down here it grows a
pound heavier up there — that by morning the child
is quite worn out. I dare say you've noticed how
haggard and miserable some ill-tempered children
get to look — now you'll know the reason."
x.] TEE OTHER SIDE OF THE MO OK 211
"Thank you, cuckoo," said Griselda again;
" but I can't say I like this opinion about the other
side of the moon any better than the first. If you
please, I would rather not talk about it any
more.'*
" Oh, but it's not so bad an idea after all," said
the cuckoo. "Lots of children, they say, get quite
cured in the country of the little black dogs. It's
this way — for every time a child refuses to take the
dog on his back down here it grows a pound lighter
up there, so at last any sensible child learns how
much better it is to have nothing to say to it at all,
and gets out of the way of it, you see. Of course,
there arc children whom nothing would cure, I
suppose. What becomes of them I really can't
say. Very likely they get crushed into pancakes
by the weight of the dogs at last, and then nothing
more is ever heard of them."
" Horrid ! " said Griselda, with a shudder.
" Don't let's talk about it any more, cuckoo ; tell
212 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
rne your oxen opinion about what there really is on
the other side of the moon."
The cuckoo was silent for a moment. Then
suddenly he stopped short in the middle of his
flight.
" Would you like to see for yourself, Griselda ? "
he said. " There would be about time to do it,"
he added to himself, " and it would fulfil her other
wish, too."
"See the moon for myself, do you mean ? " cried
Griselda, clasping her hands. "I should rather
think I would. "Will you really take me there,
cuckoo ? "
" To the other side," said the cuckoo. " 1
couldn't take you to this side."
"Why not? Not that I'd care to go to this
side as much as to the other; for, of course, we
can see this side from here. But I'd like to know
why you couldn't take me there."
"For reasons,'" said the cuckoo drily. "I'll
x.] THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON. 213
give you one if you like. If I took you to this
side of the moon you wouldn't be yourself when
you got there."
" Who would I be, then?"
" Griselda," said the cuckoo, " I told you once
that there are a great many things you don't
know. Now, I'll tell you something more. There
are a great many things you're not intended to
know."
" Very well," said Griselda. " But do tell me
when you're going on again, and where you are
going to take me to. There's no harm my asking
that ? "
"No," said the cuckoo. "I'm going on im-
mediately, and I'm going to take you where you
wanted to go to, only you must shut your eyes
again, and lie perfectly still without talking, for I
must put on steam — a good deal of steam — and I
can't talk to you. Are you all right ? "
" All right," said Griselda.
214 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
She had hardly said the words when she seemed
to fall asleep. The rushing sound in the air all
round her increased so greatly that she was con-
scious of nothing else. For a moment or two she
tried to remember where she was, and where she
was going, but it was useless. She forgot every-
thing, and knew nothing more of what was passing
till — till she heard the cuckoo again.
" Cuckoo, cuckoo; wake up, Griselda," he said.
Griselda sat up.
Where was she ?
Not certainly where she had been when she went
to sleep. Not on the cuckoo's back, for there he
was standing beside her, as tiny as usual. Either
he had grown little again, or she had grown big —
which, she supposed, it did not much matter. Only
it was very queer !
" Where am I, cuckoo ? " she said.
" Where you wished to be," he replied. " Look
about you and see."
x.] THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON. 215
Griselda looked about her. What did she see ?
Something that I can only give you a faint idea of,
children; something so strange and unlike "what
she had ever seen before, that only in a dream
could you see it as Griselda saw it. And yet why it
seemed to her so strange and unnatural I cannot
well explain ; if I could, my words would be as good
as pictures, which I know they are not.
After all, it was only the sea she saw ; but such
a great, strange, silent sea, for there were no
waves. Griselda was seated on the shore, close
beside the water's edge, but it did not come lapping
up to her feet in the pretty, coaxing way that our
sea does when it is in a good humour. There
were here and there faint ripples on the surface,
caused by the slight breezes which now and then
came softly round Griselda's face, but that was
all. King Canute might have sat "from then till
now" by this still, lifeless ocean without the
chance of reading his silly attendants a lesson —
216 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
if, indeed, there ever were such silly people, which
I very much doubt.
Griselda gazed with all her eyes. Then she
suddenly gave a little shiver.
" What's the matter ? " said the cuckoo. " You
have the mantle on — you're not cold ? "
" No," said Griselda, " I'm not cold ; but some-
how, cuckoo, I feel a little frightened. The sea
is so strange, and so dreadfully big ; and the light
is so queer, too. "What is the light, cuckoo ? It
isn't moonlight, is it ? "
" Not exactly," said the cuckoo. " You can't
both have your cake and eat it, Griselda. Look
up at the sky. There's no moon there, is there ? "
"No," said Griselda; "but what lots of stars,
cuckoo. The light comes from them, I suppose ?
And where's the sun, cuckoo? Will it be rising
soon ? It isn't always like this up here, is it ? "
"Bless you, no," said, the cuckoo. "There's
sun enough, and rather too much, sometimes.
X.J
How would you like a clay a fortnight long, and
nights to match ? If it had been daytime here
just now, I couldn't have brought you. It's just
about the very middle of the night now, and in
about a week of your days the sun will begin to
rise, because, you see "
" Oh, clear cuckoo, please don't explain ! " cried
Griselda. " I'll promise to ask Mr. Kneebreeches,
I will indeed. In fact, he was telling me some-
thing just like it to-day or yesterday — which should
I say ? — at my astronomy lesson. And that makes
it so strange that you should have brought me
up here to-night to see for myself, doesn't it,
cuckoo ? "
" An odd coincidence," said the cuckoo.
" What would Mr. Kneebreeches think if I told
him where I had been ? " continued Griselda.
" Only, you see, cuckoo, I never tell anybody about
what I see when I am with you."
" No," replied the cuckoo; "better not. ('Not
218 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
that you could if you tried,' he added to himself.)
You're not frightened now, Griselda, are you ? "
"No, I don't think I am," she replied. "But,
cuckoo, isn't this sea awfully big? "
"Pretty well," said the cuckoo. "Just half, or
nearly half, the size of the moon ; and, no doubt,
Mr. Kneebreeches has told you that the moon's
diameter and circumference are respec "
" Oh don't, cuckoo ! " interrupted Griselda, be-
seechingly. " I want to enjoy myself, and not to
have lessons. Tell me something funny, cuckoo.
Are there any mermaids in the moon-sea ? "
"Not exactly," said the cuckoo.
" What a stupid way to answer," said Griselda.
"There's no sense in that; there either must be
or must not be. There couldn't be half mermaids."
"I don't know about that," replied the cuckoo.
" They might have been here once and have left
their tails behind them, like Bopeep's sheep, you
know ; and some day they might be coming to find
x.] THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MO OK. 219"
them again, you know. That would do for ' not
exactly,' wouldn't it?"
" Cuckoo, you're laughing at me," said Griselda.
" Tell me, are there any mermaids, or fairies, or
water-sprites, or any of those sort of creatures
here ? "
" I must still say 'not exactly,'" said the cuckoo.
" There are beings here, or rather there have
been, and there may be again ; but you, Griselda,
can know no more than this."
His tone was rather solemn, and again Griselda
felt a little " eerie."
"It's a dreadfully long way from home, any
way," she said. "I feel as if, when I go back,
I shall perhaps find I have been away fifty years
or so, like the little boy in the fairy story. Cuckoo,
I think I would like to go home. Mayn't I get on
your back again ? "
" Presently," said the cuckoo. " Don't be un-
easy, Griselda. Perhaps I'll take you home by a
short cut."
220 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"Was ever any child here before?" asked
Griselda, after a little pause.
" Yes," said the cuckoo.
" And did they get safe home again ? "
" Quite," said the cuckoo. " It's so silly of you,
Griselda, to have all these ideas still about far and
near, and big and little, and long and short, after
all I've taught you and all you've seen."
"I'm very sorry," said Griselda humbly; "but
you see, cuckoo, I can't help it. I suppose I'm
made so."
"Perhaps," said the cuckoo, meditatively.
He "was silent for a minute. Then he spoke
again. "Look over there, Griselda," he said.
"There's the short cut."
Griselda looked. Far, far over the sea, in the
silent distance, she saw a tiny speck of light. It
was very tiny ; but yet the strange thing was that,
far away as it appeared, and minute as it was, it
seemed to throw off a thread of lidit to Griselda's
T.] THE OTHER SIDE OF TEE MO OX. 221
very feet — right across the great sheet of faintly
gleaming water. And as Griselda looked, the
thread seemed to widen and grow, becoming at
the same time brighter and clearer, till at last it
lay before her like a path of glowing light.
" Am I to walk along there ? " she said softly to
the cuckoo.
"No," he replied; "wait."
Griselda waited, looking still, and presently in
the middle of the shining streak she saw something
slowly moving — something from which the light
came, for the nearer it got to her the shorter grew
the glowing path, and behind the moving object
the sea looked no brighter than before it had
appeared.
At last — at last, it came quite near — near enough
for Griselda to distinguish clearly what it was.
It was a little boat— the prettiest, the loveliest
little boat that ever was seen ; and it was rowed
by a little figure that at first sight Griselda felt
222 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
certain was a fairy. For it was a child with bright
hair and silvery wings, which with every movement
sparkled and shone like a thousand diamonds.
Griselda sprang up and clapped her hands with
delight. At the sound, the child in the boat turned
and looked at her. For one instant she could not
remember where she had seen him before ; then
she exclaimed, joyfully —
" It is Phil ! Oh, cuckoo, it is Phil. Have yon
turned into a fairy, Phil ? "
But, alas, as she spoke the light faded away, the
boy's figure disappeared, the sea and the shore
and the sky were all as they had been before,
lighted only by the faint, strange gleaming of the
stars. Only the boat remained. Griselda saw it
close to her, in the shallow water, a few feet from
where she stood.
" Cuckoo," she exclaimed in a tone of reproach
and disappointment, " where is Phil gone ? Why
■did you send him away ? "
x.] THE OTHER SIDE OF TnE MOON. 223
" I didn't send him away," said the cuckoo.
" You don't understand. Never mind, but get into
the boat. It'll be all right, you'll see."
" But are we to go away and leave Phil here, all
alone at the other side of the moon?" said Griselda,
feeling ready to cry.
" Oh, you silly girl ! " said the cuckoo. " Phil's
all right, and in some ways he has a great deal
more sense than you, I can tell you. Get into the
boat and make yourself comfortable ; lie down at
the bottom and cover yourself up with the mantle.
You needn't be afraid of wetting your feet a little,
moon water never gives cold. There, now."
Griselda did as she was told. She was beginning
to feel rather tired, and it certainly was very
comfortable at the bottom of the boat, with the
nice warm feather-mantle well tucked round her.
'•"Who will row?" she said sleepily. "You
can't, cuckoo, with your tiny little claws, you could
never hold the oars, I'm "
224 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
"Hush!" said the cuckoo; and whether he
rowed or not Griselda never knew.
Off they glided somehow, but it seemed to
Griselda that somebody rowed, for she heard the
soft dip, dip of the oars as they went along, so
regularly that she couldn't help beginning to count
in time — one, two, three, four — on, on — she thought
she had got nearly to a hundred, when
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!" 225
CHAPTEE XI.
" CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE ! "
" Children, try to be good !
That is the end of all teaching ;
Easily understood,
And very easy in preaching.
And if you find it hard,
Your efforts you need but double ;
Nothing deserves reward
Unless it has given us trouble."
— When she forgot everything, and fell fast, fast
asleep, to wake, of course, in her own little bed as
usual !
" One of your tricks again, Mr. Cuckoo," she
said to herself with a smile. " However, I don't
mind. It ivas a short cut home, and it was very
comfortable in the boat, and I certainly saw a
Q
226 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
great deal last night, and I'm very much obliged
to you — particularly for making it all right with
Phil about not coming to play with me to-day.
Ah ! that reminds me, I'm in disgrace. I wonder if
Aunt Grizzel will really make me stay in my room
all day. How tired I shall be, and what will Mr.
Ivneebreeches think ! But it serves me right.
I teas very cross and rude."
There came a tap at the door. It was Dorcas
with the hot water.
" Good morning, missie," she said gently, not
feeling, to tell the truth, very sure as to what sort
of a humour " missie " was likely to be found in
this morning. " I hope you've slept well."
"Exceedingly well, thank you, Dorcas. I've
had a delightful night," replied Griselda amiably,
smiling to herself at the thought of what Dorcas
would say if she knew where she had been, and
what she had been doing since last she saw her.
" That's good news," said Dorcas in a tone of
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE I" 227
relief; "and I've good news for you, too, missie.
At least, I hope you'll think it so. Your aunt has
ordered the carriage for quite early this morning
— so you see she really wants to please you, missie,
ahout playing with little Master Phil; and if
to-morrow's a fine day, we'll be sure to find some
way of letting him know to come."
" Thank you, Dorcas. I hope it will be all
right, and that Lady Lavander won't say anything
against it. I dare say she won't. I feel ever so
much happier this morning, Dorcas ; and I'm very
sorry I was so rude to Aunt Grizzel, for of course
I know I should obey her."
(t That's right, missie," said Dorcas approvingly.
" It seems to me, Dorcas," said Griselda
dreamily, when, a few minutes later, she was
standing by the window while the old servant
brushed out her thick, wavy hair, " it seems to me,
Dorcas, that it's all ' obeying orders ' together.
There's the sun now, just getting up, and the
228 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
moon just going to bed — they are always obeying,
aren't they ? I wonder why it should be so hard
for people — for children, at least.''
"To be sure, niissie, you do put it a way of
your own," replied Dorcas, somewhat mystified ;
" but I see how you mean, I think, and it's quite
true. And it is a hard lesson to learn."
" I want to learn it well, Dorcas," said Griselda,
resolutely. " So will you please tell Aunt Grizzel
that I'm very sorry about last night, and I'll do
just as she likes about staying in my room or any-
thing. But, if she would let me, I'd far rather go
down and do my lessons as usual for Mr. Knee-
breeches. I won't ask to go out in the garden ;
but I would like to please Aunt Grizzel by doing
my lessons very well."
Dorcas was both delighted and astonished.
Never had she known her little "missie " so alto-
gether submissive and reasonable.
" I only hope the child's not going to be ill," she
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE I" 229
said to herself. But she proved a skilful ambas-
sadress, notwithstanding her misgivings; and
Griselda's imprisonment confined her only to the
bounds of the house and terrace walk, instead of
within the four walls of her own little room, as she
had feared.
Lessons icere very well done that clay, and Mr.
Kneebreeches' report was all that could be wished.
" I am particularly gratified," he remarked to
Miss Grizzel, " by the intelligence and interest
Miss Griselda displays with regard to the study
of astronomy, which I have recently begun to give
her some elementary instruction in. And, indeed,
I have no fault to find with the way in which any
of the young lady's tasks are performed."
"I am extremely glad to hear it," replied Miss
Grizzel graciously, and the kiss with which she
answered Griselda's request for forgiveness was a
very hearty one.
And it was " all right " about Phil.
230 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
Lady Lavander knew all about him; his father
and mother were friends of hers, for whom she
had a great regard, and for some time she had
been intending to ask the little boy to spend the
day at Merrybrow Hall, to be introduced to her
god-daughter Griselda. So, of course, as Lady
Lavander knew all about him, there could be no
objection to his playing in Miss Grizzel's garden !
And " to-morrow " turned out a fine day. So
altogether you can imagine that Griselda felt very
happy and light-hearted as she ran down the wood-
path to meet her little friend, whose rosy face soon
appeared among the bushes.
" What did you do yesterday, Phil ? " asked
Griselda. " Were you sorry not to come to play
with me ? "
"No," said Phil mysteriously, "I didn't mind.
I was looking for the way to fairyland to show you,
and I do believe I've found it. Oh, it is such a
pretty way."
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE J" 231
Griselda smiled.
" I'm afraid the way to fairyland isn't so easily
found," she said. "But I'd like to hear about
where you went. Was it far ? "
"A good way," said Phil. "Won't you come
with me ? It's in the wood. I can show you quite
well, and we can be back by tea-time."
" Very well," said Griselda ; and off they set.
Whether it was the way to fairyland or not, it
was not to be wondered at that little Phil thought
so. He led Griselda right across the wood to a
part where she had never been before. It was
pretty rough work part of the way. The children
had to fight with brambles and bushes, and here
and there to creep through on hands and knees,
and Griselda had to remind Phil several times of
her promise to his nurse that his clothes should
not be the worse for his playing with her, to
prevent his scrambling through " anyhow " and
having bits of his knickerbockers behind him.
232 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
But when at last they reached Phil's favourite
spot all their troubles were forgotten. Oh, how
pretty it was ! It was a sort of tiny glade in the
very middle of the wood — a little green nest en-
closed all round by trees, and right through it the
merry brook came rippling along as if rejoicing at
getting out into the sunlight again for a while.
And all the choicest and sweetest of the early
summer flowers seemed to be collected here in
greater variety and profusion than in any other
part of the wood.
"Isn't it nice?" said Phil, as he nestled down
beside Griselda on the soft, mossy grass. "It
must have been a fairies' garden some time, I'm
sure, and I shouldn't wonder if one of the doors
into fairyland is hidden somewhere here, if only
we could find it."
" If only ! " said Griselda. " I don't think we
shall find it, Phil ; but, any way, this is a lovely
place you've found, and I'd like to come here very
often."
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!" 233
Then at Phil's suggestion they set to work to
make themselves a house in the centre of this
fairies' garden, as he called it. They managed it
very much to their own satisfaction, by dragging
some logs of wood and big stones from among the
brushwood hard by, and filling the holes up with
bracken and furze.
"And if the fairies do come here," said Phil,
"they'll be very pleased to find a house all ready,
won't they?"
Then they had to gather flowers to ornament
the house inside, and dry leaves and twigs all
ready for a fire in one corner. Altogether it was
quite a business, I can assure you, and when it
was finished they were very hot and very tired
and rather dirty. Suddenly a thought struck
Oriselda.
"Phil," she said, "it must be getting late."
" Past tea-time ? " he said coolly.
" I dare say it is. Look how low down the sun
234 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap
has got. Come, Phil, we must be quick. Where
is the place we came out of the wood at ? "
" Here," said Phil, diving at a little opening
among the bushes.
Griselda followed him. He had been a good
guide hitherto, and she certainly could not have
found her way alone. They scrambled on for some
way, then the bushes suddenly seemed to grow less
thick, and in a minute they came out upon a little
path.
"Phil," said Griselda, '"'this isn't the way we
came."
"Isn't it?" said Phil, looking about him.
" Then we must have corned the wrong way."
"'I'm afraid so," said Griselda, " and it seems to
be so late already. I'm so sorry, for Aunt Grizzel
will be vexed, and I did so want to please her.
"Will your nurse be vexed, Phil ?"
"I don't care if she are," replied Phil valiantly.
' You shouldn't say that, Phil. You know we
shouldn't have stayed so long playing."
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE 7" 235
"Nebber mind," said Phil. "If it was mother
I would mind. Mother's so good, you don't know.
And she never 'colds me, except when I am naughty
— so I do mind."
" She wouldn't like you to be out so late, I'm
sure," said Griselda in distress, "and it's most
my fault, for I'm the biggest. Now, which way
shall we go ? '
They had followed the little path till it came to a
point where two roads, rough cart-ruts only, met ;
or, rather, where the path ran across the road.
Eight, or left, or straight on, which should it be ?
Griselda stood still in perplexity. Already it was
growing dusk; already the moon's soft light was
beginning faintly to glimmer through the branches.
Griselda looked up to the sky.
" To think," she said to herself—" to think that
I should not know my way in a little bit of a wood
like this — I that was up at the other side of the
moon last night."
236 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
The remembrance put another thought into her
mind.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," she said softly, "couldn't
you help us ? "
Then she stood still and listened, holding Phil's
cold little hands in her own.
She was not disappointed. Presently, in the
distance, came the well-known cry, " cuckoo,
cuckoo," so soft and far away, but yet so clear.
Phil clapped his hands.
"He's calling us," he cried joyfully. "He's
going to show us the way. That's how he calls me
always. Good cuckoo, we're coming;" and, pulling
Griselda along, he darted down the road to the
right — the direction from whence came the cry.
They had some way to go, for they had wandered
rar in a wrong direction, but the cuckoo never
failed them. Whenever they were at a loss —
whenever the path turned or divided, they heard
his clear, sweet call; and, without the least mis-
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!" 237
giving, they followed it, till at last it brought them
out upon the high-road, a stone's throw from
Farmer Crouch's gate.
" I know the way now, good cuckoo," exclaimed
Phil. " I can go home alone now, if your aunt
will be vexed with you."
" No," said Griselda, " I must take you quite all
the way home, Phil dear. I promised to take care
of you, and if nurse scolds any one it must be me,
not you."
There was a little bustle about the door of the
farmhouse as the children wearily came up to it.
Two or three men were standing together receiving
directions from Mr. Crouch himself, and Phil's
nurse was talking eagerly. Suddenly she caught
sight of the truants.
"Here he is, Mr. Crouch!" she exclaimed.
"No need now to send to look for him. Oh,
Master Phil, how could you stay out so late ? And
to-night of all nights, just when your I forgot,
238 TEE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
I mustn't say. Come in to the parlour at once —
and this little girl, who is she ? "
" She isn't a little girl, she's a young lady," said
Master Phil, putting on his lordly air, " and she's
to come into the parlour and have some supper
with me, and then some one must take her home
to her auntie's house — that's what I say."
More to please Phil than from any wish for
" supper," for she was really in a fidget to get
home, Griselda let the little boy lead her into the
parlour. But she was for a moment perfectly
startled by the cry that broke from him when he
opened the door and looked into the room. A
lady was standing there, gazing out of the window,
though in the quickly growing darkness she could
hardly have distinguished the little figure she was
watching for so anxiously.
The noise of the door opening made her look
round.
"Phil," she cried, " my own little Phil; where
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!" 239
have you been to ? You didn't know I was waiting
here for you, did you ? "
" Mother, mother ! " shouted Phil, darting into
his mother's arms.
But Griselda drew back into the shadow of the
doorway, and tears rilled her eyes as for a minute
or two she listened to the cooings and caressings
of the mother and son.
Only for a minute, however. Then Phil called
to her.
"Mother, mother," he cried again, "you must
kiss Griselda, too ! She's the little girl that is so
land, and plays with me ; and she has no mother,"
he added in a lower tone.
The lady put her arm round Griselda, and kissed
her, too. She did not seem surprised.
" I think I know about Griselda," she said very
kindly, looking into her 'face with her gentle eyes,
blue and clear like Phil's.
And then Griselda found courage to say how
240 THE CUCKOO CLOCK. [chap.
uneasy she was about the anxiety her aunts would
be feeling, and a messenger was sent off at once
to tell of her being safe at the farm.
But Griselcla herself the kind lady would not
let go till she had had some nice supper with Phil,
and was both warmed and rested.
"And what were you about, children, to lose
your way ? " she asked presently.
" I took Griselda to see a place that I thought
was the way to fairyland, and then we stayed to
build a house for the fairies, in case they come,
and then we came out at the wrong side, and it
got dark," explained Phil.
"And ivas it the way to fairyland ?" asked his
mother, smiling.
Griselda shook her head as she replied —
" Phil doesn't understand yet," she said gently.
" He isn't old enough. The way to the true fairy-
land is hard to find, and we must each find it for
ourselves, mustn't we ? "
xi.] "CUCKOO, CUCKOO, GOOD-BYE!1* 241
She looked up in the lady's face as she spoke,
and saw that she understood.
" Yes, clear child," she answered softly, and
perhaps a very little sadly. "But Phil and you
may help each other, and I perhaps may help you
both."
Griselda slid her hand into the lady's. " You're
not going to take Phil away, are you?" she
whispered.
" No, I have come to stay here," she answered^
" and Phil's father is coming too, soon. We are
going to live at the White House — the house on
the other side of the wood, on the way to Merry-
brow. Are you glad, children ? "
* * * * * *
Griselda had a curious dream that night —
merely a dream, nothing else. She dreamt that
the cuckoo came once more ; this time, he told
her, to say " good-bye."
"For you will not need me now," he
B
242 THE CUCKOO CLOCK.
" I leave you in good hands, Griselda. You have
friends now who will understand you — friends who
will help you both to work and to play. Better
friends than the mandarins, or the butterflies, or
even than your faithful old cuckoo."
And when Griselda tried to speak to him, to
thank him for his goodness, to beg him still some-
times to come to see her, he gently fluttered away.
" Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo," he warbled; but some-
how the last " cuckoo " sounded like " good-bye."
In the morning, when Griselda awoke, her
pillow was wet with tears. Thus many stories
end. She was happy, very happy in the thought
of her kind new friends ; but there were tears for
the one she felt she had said farewell to, even
though he was only a cuckoo in a clock.
THE END.
LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
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